ould not go
on. She laid her hand on his sleeve, dazzling and white with its
rings in the lamplight.

"It won't come as we suppose. I didn't mean to say this to you,
but you've made me. Soon, soon, all will be over, and we shall
all, all be at peace, and suffer no more."

"I don't understand," he said, understanding her.

"You asked when? Soon. And I shan't live through it. Don't
interrupt me!" and she made haste to speak. "I know it; I know
for certain. I shall die; and I'm very glad I shall die, and
release myself and you."

Tears dropped from her eyes; he bent down over her hand and began
kissing it, trying to hide his emotion, which, he knew, had no
sort of grounds, though he could not control it.

"Yes, it's better so," she said, tightly gripping his hand.
"That's the only way, the only way left us."

He had recovered himself, and lifted his head.

"How absurd! What absurd nonsense you are talking!"

"No, it's the truth."

"What, what's the truth?"

"That I shall die. I have had a dream."

"A dream?" repeated Vronsky, and instantly he recalled the
peasant of his dream.

"Yes, a dream," she said. "It's a long while since I dreamed it.
I dreamed that I ran into my bedroom, that I had to get something
there, to find out something; you know how it is in dreams," she
said, her eyes wide with horror; "and in the bedroom, in the
corner, stood something."

"Oh, what nonsense! How can you believe..."

But she would not let him interrupt her. What she was saying was
too important to her.

"And the something turned round, and I saw it was a peasant with
a disheveled beard, little, and dreadful looking. I wanted to
run away, but he bent down over a sack, and was fumbling there
with his hands..."

She showed how he had moved his hands. There was terror in her
face. And Vronsky, remembering his dream, felt the same terror
filling his soul.

"He was fumbling and kept talking quickly, quickly in French, you
know: _Il faut le battre, le fer, le brayer, le petrir_.... And in
my horror I tried to wake up, and woke up...but woke up in
the dream. And I began asking myself what it meant. And Korney
said to me: 'In childbirth you'll die, ma'am, you'll die....'
And I woke up."

"What nonsense, what nonsense!" said Vronsky; but he felt himself
that there was no conviction in his voice.

"But don't let's talk of it. Ring the bell, I'll have tea. And
stay a little now; it's not long I shall..