Giorgi slows their pace, listening to the argument—he’s accustomed to them—but he doesn’t bring the horses to a halt.

“We have plenty of time, don’t worry,” Claudia argues, trying to pacify him, because, to justify his reaction to going to the theater with his sister, Sergei has complained that he can’t stand how long they always have to wait for her when they go to pick her up, an undeniable fact. “I took matters into my own hands, she’ll be ready on time.”

“There’s never enough time for Anya, you know that. She’ll take years to come down, she always forgets something … and …” Sergei wants to describe his revulsion to Claudia, but his tongue fails him.

“Enough, Sergei, she’s your sister. This is why I didn’t mention it earlier. To avoid a scene. We’re picking her up, and that’s final!”

Giorgi maintains their steady pace.

Time seems to slow down. Oblivious to what’s happening on the avenue, Sergei sighs. “Farewell, concert!”

“Such drama! Don’t grit your teeth, stop grinding them this second, you’ll crack them!”

“I’m not grinding them.”

“Of course you are, even when you speak. Stop it! Relax! We’re on our way!”

“I’m not going to the concert.”

“Enough. You’re coming. You have to come,” and she adds, in her high, confident voice, “Onward, Giorgi! Onward! To Mademoiselle Anya’s!” The coach speeds up again, and Claudia picks up where she left off, without changing her tone of voice. “I’ve noticed how badly you’re treating your teeth, as if they’re responsible for these ridiculous fits you throw about Anya. Ridiculous! She’s a sweetheart. Calm down, Sergei, it’s all right. I asked her to be ready for us. I told her we’d stop by at 7:20 (so I lied a little). Everything’s fine. I know you well, you wouldn’t want to arrive too early. You’re the only person in all St. Petersburg who goes to the concert for the music.”

When the carriage stops, the door to the Karenin Palace opens like a jack-in-the-box, and out springs Anya. Sergei catches a glimpse of Kapitonich, the old hall porter, as the door closes.

“I heard you coming!” Anya says as she gets into the carriage, smiling. “I wanted to show my sister-in-law how grateful I am, I was waiting right by the front door with my muff and my hat on, ready to go…. I’m so easily distracted. Aleksandra was asking me to let her do the most absurd thing…. I refused, of course.”

Anya’s cheeks are burning, as if she’s been sitting next to the fire. Sergei greets her with a curt nod, regarding her out of the corner of his eye.

Claudia asks, “Aleksandra, your lady’s maid? The one whose patron is Princess Elizaveta Narishkina? The one who … ?”