"Well, well, what was it you were going to say about the prince?
I have driven away the fiend," she added. The fiend was the
name they had given her jealousy. "What did you begin to tell me
about the prince? Why did you find it so tiresome?"
"Oh, it was intolerable!" he said, trying to pick up the thread
of his interrupted thought. "He does not improve on closer
acquaintance. If you want him defined, here he is: a prime,
well-fed beast such as takes medals at the cattle shows, and
nothing more," he said, with a tone of vexation that interested
"No; how so?" she replied. "He's seen a great deal, anyway; he's
"It's an utterly different culture--their culture. He's
cultivated, one sees, simply to be able to despise culture, as
they despise everything but animal pleasures."
"But don't you all care for these animal pleasures?" she said,
and again he noticed a dark look in her eyes that avoided him.
"How is it you're defending him?" he said, smiling.
"I'm not defending him, it's nothing to me; but I imagine, if you
had not cared for those pleasures yourself, you might have got
out of them. But if it affords you satisfaction to gaze at
Therese in the attire of Eve..."
"Again, the devil again," Vronsky said, taking the hand she had
laid on the table and kissing it.
"Yes; but I can't help it. You don't know what I have suffered
waiting for you. I believe I'm not jealous. I'm not jealous: I
believe you when you're here; but when you're away somewhere
leading your life, so incomprehensible to me..."
She turned away from him, pulled the hook at last out of the
crochet work, and rapidly, with the help of her forefinger, began
working loop after loop of the wool that was dazzling white in
the lamplight, while the slender wrist moved swiftly, nervously
in the embroidered cuff.