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 As she was taking off her wraps in the anteroom she heard the lackey, who rolled his R's like a kammer-junker, say, "From the count to the princess," at the same time he delivered his note.

She wanted to ask him where his barin was. She wanted to go back and write him a note, asking him to come to her, or to go and find him herself. But she could not follow out any of these plans, for the bell had already announced her presence, and one of the princess's lackeys was waiting at the door to usher her into the rooms beyond.

"The princess is in the garden. Word has been sent to her. Would you not like to step out into the garden?" said a second lackey in the second room.

Her position of uncertainty, of darkness, was just the same as at home. It was even worse, because she could not make any decision, she could not see Vronsky, and she was obliged to remain in the midst of a company of strangers diametrically opposed to her present mood. But she wore a toilet which she knew was very becoming. She was not alone, she was surrounded by that solemn atmosphere of indolence so familiar; and on the whole it was better to be there than at home. She was not obliged to think what she would do. Things would arrange themselves.

Betsy came to meet her in a white toilet absolutely stunning in its elegance; and Anna greeted her, as usual, with a smile. The Princess Tverskaya was accompanied by Tushkievitch and a young relative who, to the great delight of the provincial family to which she belonged, was spending the summer with the famous princess.

Apparently there was something unnatural in Anna's appearance, for Betsy immediately remarked it.

"I did not sleep well," replied Anna, looking furtively at the lackey, who was coming, as she supposed, to bring Vronsky's note to the princess.

"How glad I am that you came!" said Betsy. "I am just up, and I should like to have a cup of tea before the others come. And you," she said, addressing Tush-