Anna Karenina

part and those who look on; and love for such spectacles is an unmistakable
proof of a low degree of development in the spectator, I admit, but..."
"Princess, bets!" sounded Stepan Arkadyevitch's voice from below.
addressing Betsy. "Who's your favorite?"
"Anna and I are for Kuzovlev," replied Betsy.
"I'm for Vronsky. A pair of gloves?"
"Done!"
"But it is a pretty sight, isn't it?"
Alexey Alexandrovitch paused while there was talking about him, but he
began again directly.
"I admit that manly sports do not..." he was continuing.
But at that moment the racers started, and all conversation ceased. Alexey
Alexandrovitch too was silent, and everyone stood up and turned towards
the stream. Alexey Alexandrovitch took no interest in the race, and so he
did not watch the racers, but fell listlessly to scanning the spectators with
his weary eyes. His eyes rested upon Anna.
Her face was white and set. She was obviously seeing nothing and no one
but one man. Her hand had convulsively clutched her fan, and she held her
breath. He looked at her and hastily turned away, scrutinizing other faces.
"But here's this lady too, and others very much moved as well; it's very
natural," Alexey Alexandrovitch told himself. He tried not to look at her,
but unconsciously his eyes were drawn to her. He examined that face again,
trying not to read what was so plainly written on it, and against his own
will, with horror read on it what he did not want to know.
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The first fall--Kuzovlev's, at the stream--agitated everyone, but Alexey
Alexandrovitch saw distinctly on Anna's pale, triumphant face that the man
she was watching had not fallen. When, after Mahotin and Vronsky had
cleared the worst barrier, the next officer had been thrown straight on his
head at it and fatally injured, and a shudder of horror passed over the whole
public, Alexey Alexandrovitch saw that Anna did not even notice it, and
had some difficulty in realizing what they were talking of about her. But
more and more often, and with greater persistence, he watched her. Anna,
wholly engrossed as she was with the race, became aware of her husband's
cold eyes fixed upon her from one side.
She glanced round for an instant, looked inquiringly at him, and with a
slight frown turned away again.
"Ah, I don't care!" she seemed to say to him, and she did not once glance at
him again.
The race was an unlucky one, and of the seventeen officers who rode in it
more than half were thrown and hurt. Towards the end of the race everyone
was in a state of agitation, which was intensified by the fact that the Tsar
was displeased.
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