Betrothal -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Families -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
The other force that stirred his conscience was Katherine’s belief in
him. In Moscow no one had believed in anyone—anyone there, proved to be
faultless, would have been, for that very reason, unpopular. Anna
herself had held the most humorous opinion of him. (She liked
Englishmen, respected their restraint and silence, but always laughed at
their care for appearances.) Although he had known that his love for
Katherine had sprung partly from his sense of her difference from Anna,
he, nevertheless, had expected the qualities that had pleased him in the
one to continue in the other. He discovered that Katherine trusted him
utterly, that she believed, with absolute confidence, in every word that
fell from his lips, and he knew that, if the old whole world came to her
and told her that he had had for several years a mistress in Moscow and
he denied it to her, that she would laugh at the world. This knowledge
made him extremely uncomfortable. First, he tried to persuade himself
that he had never had a mistress, that Anna had never existed, then,
when that miserably failed, he told himself that he could always deny it
if she asked him, then he knew that he loved her so much that he would
not lie to her (this discovery pleased him). He must, he finally knew,
tell her himself.... He told himself that he would wait a little until
she believed in him less completely; he must prepare her mind. He did
not even now, however, consider that she would feel his confession very
deeply; Anna would simply have laughed at his scruples.
Meanwhile he loved her so deeply and so completely that Anna’s figure
was a ghost, dimly recalled from some other life. He had almost
forgotten her appearance. She had a little black mole on her left
cheek—or was it her right?...
Somewhere in the beginning of February he decided that he would
cultivate Henry, not because he liked Henry, but because he thought that
Katherine would like it—also, although this he did not confess to
himself, because Henry was so strange and unexpected that he was half
afraid of him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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