“Oh, I’m so glad!” answered Betsy, at once understanding that he was speaking of Anna. And going back into the drawing-room, they stood in a corner. “He’s killing her,” said Betsy in a whisper full of meaning. “It’s impossible, impossible.⁠ ⁠…”

“I’m so glad you think so,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, shaking his head with a serious and sympathetically distressed expression, “that’s what I’ve come to Petersburg for.”

“The whole town’s talking of it,” she said. “It’s an impossible position. She pines and pines away. He doesn’t understand that she’s one of those women who can’t trifle with their feelings. One of two things: either let him take her away, act with energy, or give her a divorce. This is stifling her.”

“Yes, yes⁠ ⁠… just so.⁠ ⁠…” Oblonsky said, sighing. “That’s what I’ve come for. At least not solely for that⁠ ⁠… I’ve been made a Kammerherr ; of course, one has to say thank you. But the chief thing was having to settle this.”