Vronsky looked at her, and with a violent beating of the heart waited for her answer ; after she had spoken those words he drew a deep breath, as if he had escaped some danger.
She turned suddenly to Vronsky.
"I have just had a letter from Moscow. They write me that Kitty Shcherbatskaya is very ill."
"Really," said Vronsky, with a frown.
Anna looked at him with a severe expression.
"Does n't that interest you?"
"It certainly does. I am very sorry. Exactly what did they write you, if I may be permitted to inquire?"
Anna arose and went to Betsy.
"Will you give me a cup of tea?" she said, standing behind her chair. While Betsy was pouring the tea, Vronsky went to Anna.
"What did they write you?"
"I often think that men do not know what nobility means, though they are all the time talking about it," said Anna, not answering his question.
"I have been wanting to tell you for a long time," she added, and taking a few steps she sat down at a corner table laden with albums.
"I don't quite know what your words mean," he said, offering her a cup of tea.
She glanced at the divan near her, and he instantly sat down on it.
"Yes, I have been wanting to tell you," she continued, without looking at him. "You have acted badly, — very badly."
"Don't I know that I have? But whose fault was it?"
"Why do you say that to me?" said she, with a severe look.
"You know why," he replied boldly and joyously, meeting her gaze, and without dropping his eyes.
She, not he, felt confused.
"This simply proves that you have no heart," said she. But her eyes told the story, that she knew that he had a heart, and that therefore she feared him.
