Annushka was already dozing, the red bag on her lap, clutched by her broad hands, in gloves, of which one was torn.
Anna Arkadyevna read and understood, but it was distasteful to her to read, that is, to follow the reflection of other people's lives.
She had too great a desire to live herself.
If she read that the heroine of the novel was nursing a sick man, she longed to move with noiseless steps about the room of a sick man; if she read of a member of Parliament making a speech, she longed to be delivering the speech; if she read of how Lady Mary had ridden after the hounds, and had provoked her sister-in-law, and had surprised everyone by her boldness, she too wished to be doing the same.