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    Part 1 - Chapter 21

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    Chapter 21

    Dolly came out of her room to the tea of the grown-up people.
    Stepan Arkadyevitch did not come out. He must have left his
    wife's room by the other door.

    "I am afraid you'll be cold upstairs," observed Dolly, addressing
    Anna; "I want to move you downstairs, and we shall be nearer."

    "Oh, please, don't trouble about me," answered Anna, looking
    intently into Dolly's face, trying to make out whether there had
    been a reconciliation or not.

    "It will be lighter for you here," answered her sister-in-law.

    "I assure you that I sleep everywhere, and always like a marmot."

    "What's the question?" inquired Stepan Arkadyevitch, coming out
    of his room and addressing his wife.

    From his tone both Kitty and Anna knew that a reconciliation had
    taken place.

    "I want to move Anna downstairs, but we must hang up blinds. No
    one knows how to do it; I must see to it myself," answered Dolly
    addressing him.

    "God knows whether they are fully reconciled," thought Anna,
    hearing her tone, cold and composed.

    "Oh, nonsense, Dolly, always making difficulties," answered her
    husband. "Come, I'll do it all, if you like..."

    "Yes, They must be reconciled," thought Anna.

    "I know how you do everything," answered Dolly. "You tell Matvey
    to do what can't be done, and go away yourself, leaving him to
    make a muddle of everything," and her habitual, mocking smile
    curved the corners of Dolly's lips as she spoke.

    "Full, full reconciliation, full," thought Anna; "thank God!" and
    rejoicing that she was the cause of it, she went up to Dolly and
    kissed her.

    "Not at all. Why do you always look down on me and Matvey?" said
    Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling hardly perceptibly, and addressing
    his wife.

    The whole evening Dolly was, as always, a little mocking in her
    tone to her husband, while Stepan Arkadyevitch was happy and
    cheerful, but not so as to seem as though, having been forgiven,
    he had forgotten his offense.

    At half-past nine o'clock a particularly joyful and pleasant
    family conversation over the tea-table at the Oblonskys' was

    broken up by an apparently simple incident. But this simple
    incident for some reason struck everyone as strange. Talking
    about common acquaintances in Petersburg, Anna got up quickly.

    "She is in my album," she said; "and, by the way, I'll show you
    by Seryozha," she added, with a mother's smile of pride.

    Towards ten o'clock, when she usually said good-night to her son,
    and often before going to a ball put him to bed herself, she felt
    depressed at being so far from him; and whatever she was talking
    about, she kept coming back in thought to her curly-headed
    Seryozha. She longed to look at his
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