KAReNIN. You had better have a cup of tea, and eat something.

LISA. I don't want anything now. I am so happy after all that anxiety!... [Sobs].

KAReNIN. There! You see how worn out you are!

LISA. I'm so happy!... Would you like to have a look at him?

KAReNIN. Of course.

LISA. Then come with me. [Exeunt].

ANNA PaVLOVNA [returning to Sasha] What are you looking so glum about?... I gave him the money quite well, and he took it.

SaSHA. It's disgusting! She has taken him with her to the nursery. It's just as if he were her _fiance_ or her husband....

ANNA PaVLOVNA. Whatever does it matter to you? Why need you get excited about it? Did you mean to marry him yourself?

SaSHA. I? Marry that pikestaff? I'd rather marry I don't know whom, than him! Such a thing never entered my head.... I am only disgusted that, after Fedya, Lisa can be so attracted by a stranger.

ANNA PaVLOVNA. Not a stranger, but an old playfellow!

SaSHA. Don't I see by their smiles and looks that they are in love?

ANNA PaVLOVNA. Well, what is there to be surprised at in that? He shares her anxiety about her baby, shows sympathy and helps her ... and she feels grateful. Besides, why should she not love and marry Victor?

SaSHA. That would be disgusting--disgusting....

Enter Karenin and Lisa. Karenin silently takes leave. Sasha goes of angrily.

LISA [to Anna Pavlovna] What's the matter with her?

ANNA PaVLOVNA. I really don't know.

Lisa sighs, and is silent.

Curtain.

SCENE 2

Afremov's sitting-room. Gla.s.ses of wine on the table. Afremov, Fedya, Stakhov (s.h.a.ggy), Butkevich (close-shaven), and Korotkov (a tuft-hunter).

KOROTKoV. And I tell you that he'll be out of the running! La Belle Bois is the best horse in Europe.... Will you bet?

STaKHOV. Don't, my dear fellow.... You know very well that n.o.body believes you, or will bet with you.

KOROTKoV. I tell you your Cartouche won't be in it!

AFReMOV. Stop quarrelling! Let me settle it ... ask Fedya--he'll give you the right tip.

FeDYA. Both horses are good. All depends on the jockey.

STaKHOV. Gusev is a rascal, and needs a firm hand on him.

KOROTKoV [shouts] No!

FeDYA. Wait a bit--I'll settle your differences.... Who won the Moscow Derby?

KOROTKoV. He did--but what of that? It was only chance. If Crakus had not fallen ill.... [Enter footman].

AFReMOV. What is it?

FOOTMAN. A lady has come, and is asking for Mr. Protasov.

AFReMOV. What is she like? A real lady?

FOOTMAN. I don't know her name, but she's a real lady.

AFReMOV. Fedya! a lady to see you!

FeDYA [startled] Who is it?

AFReMOV. He doesn't know.

FOOTMAN. Shall I ask her into the dining-room?

FeDYA. No, wait.... I'll go myself and see.

Exeunt Fedya and footman.

KOROTKoV. Who can it be? It must be Masha.

STaKHOV. Which Masha?

KOROTKoV. The gipsy. She's in love with him, like a cat.

STaKHOV. What a darling she is ...! And how she sings!

AFReMOV. Charming! Tanyusha and she! They sang with Peter yesterday.

STaKHOV. What a lucky fellow that is!

AFReMOV. Why? Because the girls are all sweet on him? Not much luck in that!

KOROTKoV. I can't bear gipsies--nothing refined about them.

BUTKeVICH. No, you can't say that!