Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

Chapter 2

Stepan Arkadyevitch (Oblonsky, Anna's brother, by his first name and patronymic) was a truthful (telling the truth) man in his relations with himself. He was incapable (unable) of deceiving (to trick; to mislead) himself and persuading (to win over by words) himself that he repented (to sorrow for one's sins) of his conduct. He could not at this date repent (to sorrow for one's sins) of the fact that he, a handsome (fine-looking), susceptible (easily affected) man of thirty-four, was not in love with his wife, the mother of five living and two dead children, and only a year younger than himself. All he repented (to sorrow for one's sins) of was that he had not succeeded (to follow; to prosper) better in hiding it from his wife. But he felt all the difficulty (hardness; trouble) of his position and was sorry for his wife, his children, and himself. Possibly he might have managed to conceal (to hide) his sins (a wrong against God) better from his wife if he had anticipated (to expect beforehand) that the knowledge of them would have had such an effect on her. He had never clearly thought out the subject, but he had vaguely (dimly; without clear shape) conceived (to form in the mind) that his wife must long ago have suspected him of being unfaithful (false to one's vows) to her, and shut her eyes to the fact. He had even supposed that she, a worn-out (worn out) woman no longer young or good-looking (handsome), and in no way remarkable (worthy of note) or interesting, merely (only) a good mother, ought (should) from a sense of fairness (justice) to take an indulgent (gently allowing; not strict) view. It had turned out quite the other way.

“Oh, it’s awful (awful: full of awe — the old sense here)! oh dear, oh dear! awful (awful: full of awe — the old sense here)!” Stepan Arkadyevitch kept repeating (to say or do again) to himself, and he could think of nothing to be done. “And how well things were going up till now! how well we got on! She was contented and happy in her children; I never interfered (to meddle) with her in anything; I let her manage the children and the house just as she liked. It’s true it’s bad her having been a governess (a woman teacher in a household) in our house. That’s bad! There’s something common, vulgar (coarse and common), in flirting (to play at love) with one’s governess (a woman teacher in a household). But what a governess (a woman teacher in a household)!” (He vividly (with living brightness) recalled (to call back to mind) the roguish (playfully mischievous) black eyes of Mlle. Roland (a hero of old French song) and her smile.) “But after all, while she was in the house, I kept myself in hand. And the worst of it all is that she’s already ... it seems as if ill-luck (bad fortune) would have it so! Oh, oh! But what, what is to be done?”

There was no solution, but that universal (of all) solution which life gives to all questions, even the most complex and insoluble (impossible to solve). That answer is: one must live in the needs of the day—that is, forget oneself (one's own self). To forget himself in sleep was impossible now, at least till nighttime (the hours of night); he could not go back now to the music sung by the decanter-women (women shown as handles on a decanter); so he must forget himself in the dream of daily life.

“Then we shall see,” Stepan Arkadyevitch said to himself, and getting up he put on a gray (the color between black and white) dressing-gown (a loose robe worn at home) lined with blue silk (the fine soft thread of the East), tied the tassels (a hanging bunch of threads) in a knot (a tied fastening; a tight cluster), and, drawing a deep breath of air into his broad, bare (uncovered) chest, he walked to the window with his usual confident (sure of oneself) step, turning out his feet that carried his full frame so easily. He pulled up the blind and rang the bell loudly (with loud voice). It was at once answered by the appearance of an old friend, his valet (a gentleman's personal servant), Matvey (Oblonsky's valet), carrying his clothes, his boots (a high shoe), and a telegram (a wired message). Matvey was followed by the barber (one who cuts hair) with all the necessaries for shaving (cutting off hair with a blade).

“Are there any papers from the office?” asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, taking the telegram (a wired message) and seating himself at the looking-glass (a mirror).

“On the table,” replied Matvey, glancing (a quick look) with inquiring (to ask) sympathy (fellow-feeling) at his master; and, after a short pause (a brief stop), he added with a sly (secretly cunning) smile, “They’ve sent from the carriage-jobbers (men who hire out carriages).”

Stepan Arkadyevitch made no reply, he merely (only) glanced (a quick look) at Matvey in the looking-glass (a mirror). In the glance (a quick look), in which their eyes met in the looking-glass (a mirror), it was clear that they understood one another. Stepan Arkadyevitch’s eyes asked: “Why do you tell me that? don’t you know?”

Matvey put his hands in his jacket (a short coat) pockets (the sewn-in pouch), thrust (to push hard) out one leg, and gazed (a long steady look) silently (without a sound), good-humoredly (cheerfully and easygoing), with a faint (weak and dim; to fall senseless) smile, at his master.

“I told them to come on Sunday, and till then not to trouble you or themselves for nothing,” he said. He had obviously prepared the sentence beforehand (ahead of time).

Stepan Arkadyevitch saw Matvey wanted to make a joke and attract (to draw toward) attention to himself. Tearing (a drop of weeping; to rip) open the telegram (a wired message), he read it through, guessing at the words, misspelt (spelt wrongly) as they always are in telegrams (a wired message), and his face brightened (to make brighter).

“Matvey, my sister Anna Arkadyevna (Anna, by her first name and patronymic) will be here tomorrow,” he said, checking for a minute the sleek (smooth and glossy), plump (round and full-fleshed) hand of the barber (one who cuts hair), cutting a pink path through his long, curly (full of curls) whiskers (hair on the cheeks).

“Thank God!” said Matvey, showing by this response that he, like his master, realized the significance (meaning; importance) of this arrival (a coming)—that is, that Anna Arkadyevna, the sister he was so fond (loving) of, might bring about a reconciliation (return to friendship) between husband and wife.

“Alone, or with her husband?” inquired (to ask) Matvey.

Stepan Arkadyevitch could not answer, as the barber (one who cuts hair) was at work on his upper lip (the mouth's edge), and he raised one finger (a digit of the hand). Matvey nodded (to bow the head slightly) at the looking-glass (a mirror).

“Alone. Is the room to be got ready upstairs (on the floor above)?”

“Inform (to give knowledge to) Darya Alexandrovna (Dolly, Oblonsky's wife, by her first name and patronymic): where she orders.”

“Darya Alexandrovna?” Matvey repeated (to say or do again), as though in doubt.

“Yes, inform (to give knowledge to) her. Here, take the telegram (a wired message); give it to her, and then do what she tells you.”

“You want to try it on,” Matvey understood, but he only said, “Yes, sir.”

Stepan Arkadyevitch was already washed (to clean with water) and combed (smoothed as with a comb) and ready to be dressed, when Matvey, stepping deliberately (deliberately: slowly and carefully — the old sense here) in his creaky (creaking) boots (a high shoe), came back into the room with the telegram (a wired message) in his hand. The barber (one who cuts hair) had gone.

“Darya Alexandrovna told me to inform (to give knowledge to) you that she is going away. Let him do—that is you—as he likes,” he said, laughing only with his eyes, and putting his hands in his pockets (the sewn-in pouch), he watched his master with his head on one side. Stepan Arkadyevitch was silent (making no sound) a minute. Then a good-humored (cheerful and easygoing) and rather pitiful (stirring pity) smile showed itself on his handsome (fine-looking) face.

“Eh, Matvey?” he said, shaking (to move quickly to and fro) his head.

“It’s all right, sir; she will come round,” said Matvey.

“Come round?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you think so? Who’s there?” asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, hearing the rustle (a soft dry whispering sound) of a woman’s dress at the door.

“It’s I,” said a firm, pleasant (pleasing), woman’s voice, and the stern (severe; a ship's rear), pockmarked (scarred with smallpox pits) face of Matrona (a Russian woman's name) Philimonovna (a Russian patronymic, meaning daughter of Filimon), the nurse (one who tends the sick; to feed at the breast), was thrust (to push hard) in at the doorway (the opening of a door).

“Well, what is it, Matrona?” queried (a question) Stepan Arkadyevitch, going up to her at the door.

Although Stepan Arkadyevitch was completely in the wrong as regards (to look upon; respect) his wife, and was conscious (aware) of this himself, almost everyone in the house (even the nurse (one who tends the sick; to feed at the breast), Darya Alexandrovna’s chief ally (a joined friend in war)) was on his side.

“Well, what now?” he asked disconsolately (beyond comforting; gloomily).

“Go to her, sir; own your fault again. Maybe God will aid you. She is suffering so, it’s sad to see her; and besides, everything in the house is topsy-turvy (upside down; in confusion). You must have pity (sorrow for another's pain), sir, on the children. Beg (to ask humbly) her forgiveness (pardon), sir. There’s no help for it! One must take the consequences (what follows)....”

“But she won’t see me.”

“You do your part. God is merciful (full of mercy); pray (to speak to God) to God, sir, pray (to speak to God) to God.”

“Come, that’ll do, you can go,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, blushing (to redden with shame) suddenly. “Well now, do dress me.” He turned to Matvey and threw off his dressing-gown (a loose robe worn at home) decisively (with firm decision).

Matvey was already holding up the shirt like a horse’s collar (the neck band), and, blowing off some invisible (unable to be seen) speck (a tiny spot), he slipped (to slide by accident; a small error) it with obvious pleasure over the well-groomed (neatly kept and brushed) body of his master.