The evening was spent happily and gaily in the presence of Princess Varvara, who complained to him that Anna had been taking morphine in his absence.

“What am I to do? I couldn’t sleep.⁠ ⁠… My thoughts prevented me. When he’s here I never take it⁠—hardly ever.”

He told her about the election, and Anna knew how by adroit questions to bring him to what gave him most pleasure⁠—his own success. She told him of everything that interested him at home; and all that she told him was of the most cheerful description.

But late in the evening, when they were alone, Anna, seeing that she had regained complete possession of him, wanted to erase the painful impression of the glance he had given her for her letter. She said:

“Tell me frankly, you were vexed at getting my letter, and you didn’t believe me?”