Anna Karenina, Vol. 1

The story begins in Moscow, in the household of Stepan Arkadyevich Oblonskiy, where a general state of confusion reigns. His wife, Dolly, has discovered his affair with the French governess and declared she cannot live with him any longer. This situation, now in its third day, is acutely felt not only by the couple but by the entire household, staff included. Prince Stepan Arkadyevich Oblonskiy, known as Stiva, wakes up on the third day after the argument, not in his wife's bedroom but in his study. He recalls a strange dream involving Alabin and Darmstadt, which quickly fades as he reaches for his usual morning robe, only to remember he is not in his wife's chambers. The realization of his transgression and his role in the household's disarray brings a wave of distress. He laments his situation, his wife, his children, and himself, particularly vexed by his own foolish smile that Dolly had noticed during their confrontation. He recalls the moment Dolly, finding his ill-fated letter to the governess, looked at him with horror, despair, and rage. Stiva, a man of thirty-four, handsome and gallant, admits he is no longer in love with his wife, the mother of his five living and two deceased children, who is only a year younger than him. He regrets not being more discreet but finds himself unable to reconcile his actions with his wife's unforgiving nature. He concludes that life compels one to forget oneself, to live through the day, and that sleep is the only escape. His butler, Matvey, enters with his morning attire and a telegram. Stefan Arkadyevich learns that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, will arrive tomorrow. Matvey understands the significance of this visit, recognizing Anna as Stefan's favorite sister, capable of mediating reconciliation. Meanwhile, Dolly, having tried and failed to pack her and her children's belongings to take them to her mother, remains in her chambers. She feels trapped, unable to leave her husband despite his transgressions, and despite her resolve to punish him and share his pain. The small child's illness, caused by spoiled broth, and the children's lack of food the previous day add to her distress. She knows she cannot leave the house, but continues to pack, engaging in self-deception about her departure. When her husband enters, her attempt to present a stern facade fails, replaced by confusion and suffering. He addresses her softly, and she observes his healthy, happy appearance with hatred, finding his habitual goodness, which everyone else loves, repulsive. Her lip trembles, and she asks him what he wishes in an unnatural, sharp tone. He repeats that Anna will arrive today, and she replies that she cannot receive her. He pleads with her, but she dismisses him with a cry that sounds like physical pain. Stefan Arkadyevich, despite his culpability, finds himself supported by almost everyone in the house, including the wet nurse, Dolly's best friend. She urges him to apologize, citing God's help and the children's plight. He, embarrassed, tells her he will dress. After dressing, he proceeds to the dining room, where coffee, letters, and court documents await him. He reads a letter from a merchant who purchased a forest from his wife's estate, a sale which must be finalized before any reconciliation with her. The thought of having to seek her forgiveness for this sale offends him. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the newspaper, which he subscribes to for its liberal, though not radical, outlook. Though uninterested in science, art, or politics, he follows general discussions and adopts popular opinions without conscious thought. He chooses not to seek out specific viewpoints but rather lets them come to him naturally, much like selecting a hat or coat. A conviction, he muses, is as necessary in society as a hat, developing with maturity. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party proclaims Russia's ills, and Stiva, deep in debt, finds this resonates. They claim marriage is an outdated institution needing reform, and indeed, family life offers him little comfort, forcing him into deceit. They also state religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. Nevertheless, he enjoys surprising placid individuals with the assertion that one need not start with Rurik to prove lineage and should not dismiss the ape as a common ancestor. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a cigar after lunch for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonovna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then turns to the court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers liberalism to conservatism not because it is more reasonable, but because it better accommodates his lifestyle. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is merely a bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by stating that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonowna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation with her. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by asserting that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonowna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation with her. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by asserting that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonowna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation with her. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by asserting that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonowna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation with her. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by asserting that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonowna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation with her. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by asserting that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure. Finishing the newspaper and his second cup of coffee and pastry, he rises, brushes crumbs from his waistcoat, stretches contentedly, and walks to the window, ringing his bell vigorously. His valet, Matvey, enters with his clothes, boots, and a telegram, followed by the barber. Stefan Arkadyevich asks for documents, takes the telegram, and sits for his shave. Matvey, looking on with sympathy, reports a visitor from the livery stable. Stefan Arkadyevich understands Matvey is joking and seeking attention. He tears the telegram, attempting to read it. His mood brightens. He informs Matvey that his sister, Anna Arkadyevna, is arriving tomorrow. Matvey acknowledges this, recognizing Anna's potential role in reconciling the couple. He asks if she is arriving alone. Stefan Arkadyevich, occupied by the barber, merely raises a finger. Matvey nods, understanding she is alone. He asks if the upper floor should be prepared. Stefan Arkadyevich instructs him to inform Darja Alexandrowna, who will decide where Anna should stay. Matvey repeats Darja Alexandrowna's name with doubt. Stefan Arkadyevich tells him to inform her and give her the telegram to make arrangements. Matvey understands but simply replies, “I obey.” The barber finishes, and Matvey returns with the telegram, informing Stefan Arkadyevich that Darja Alexandrowna has instructed him to say she will continue her course of action, and he may do as he pleases. Stefan Arkadyevich, shaking his head, smiles sadly. Matvey reassures him, saying it will work out. Stefan Arkadyevich asks if he thinks so. Matvey agrees. Stefan Arkadyevich hears a rustle at the door and asks who is there. The nurse, Matrjona Philimonowna, appears, her face stern. Stefan Arkadyevich, though guilty, finds most of the household, including the nurse, on his side. He asks her what is wrong. She urges him to apologize, believing God will help and expressing pity for Dolly's suffering and the household's disarray. She implores him to apologize, fearing the consequences otherwise. He interrupts, stating Dolly is not being reasonable. She advises him to do what he can, to pray. He, blushing, dismisses her and decides to dress. Matvey brings him a fresh shirt and assists him with evident pleasure. After dressing, Stefan Arkadyevich applies perfume, adjusts his cuffs, pockets cigarettes, his portfolio, matches, his watch, and shakes out his handkerchief. Feeling clean, perfumed, healthy, and outwardly cheerful despite his misfortune, he goes to the dining room for coffee, letters, and court documents. He reads the letters, one particularly unpleasant from a merchant regarding the sale of his wife's forest, a sale that must happen before any reconciliation with her. He finds it offensive that he must appeal for forgiveness for this. He then reviews court documents, making notes, and reads the morning paper, favoring a liberal, moderate publication. Though indifferent to science, art, or politics, he follows current affairs and shifts his opinions as the public does, or rather, his opinions shift without his awareness. He chooses no particular direction or viewpoint but accepts what is offered. Society, he believes, requires a certain intellectual effort, usually developed with maturity, making opinions as essential as a hat. He prefers the liberal viewpoint to the conservative one, not because it is more rational, but because it suits his lifestyle better. The liberal party critiques Russia, and Stiva, heavily indebted, agrees. They claim marriage is obsolete and needs reform, and indeed, his family life offers little comfort, compelling him to lie and dissemble. They also posit religion is a mere bridle for the barbaric, and Stiva finds prayers tedious and the talk of another world nonsensical when life in this one is so pleasant. He enjoys playfully baffling conventional people by asserting that while one may be proud of one's lineage, one need not start with Rurik as the first ancestor, nor dismiss the ape as a forebear. Thus, the liberal direction becomes a habit, cherished like a post-lunch cigar for the mental fog it produces. He reads the leading article, which argues against the notion that radicalism threatens conservatism, asserting that progress is hindered by tradition, not by revolutionary hydras. He also reads a second article on finance, which criticizes the ministry. With his usual quick understanding, he grasms the significance of each aside, its author, recipient, and context, finding pleasure in it as always. However, this pleasure is marred by the memory of Matrjona Philimonowna's advice and the unhappiness in his home. He continues reading about Count Beust's travels and a report on gray hair, then a sale notice for a light carriage and an offer for a young girl. Yet, none of these news items evoke the usual quiet, ironic pleasure.