unhappy in its own way.

     Everything was in confusion in the Oblonskys' house. The 

wife had discovered that the husband was carrying on an

intrigue with a French girl, who had been a governess in their 

family, and she had announced to her husband that she could

not go on living in the same house with him. This position of 

affairs had now lasted three days, and not only the husband

and wife themselves, but all the members of their family and 

household, were painfully conscious of it. Every person in

the house felt that there was no sense in their living together,

and that the stray people brought together by chance in any

inn had more in common with one another than they, the 

members of the family and household of the Oblonskys. The

wife did not leave her own room, the husband had not been

at home for three days. The children ran wild all over the

house; the English governess quarreled with the housekeeper,

and wrote to a friend asking her to look out for a new 

situation for her; the man-cook had walked off the day before

just at dinner-time; the kitchen-maid, and the coachman had

given warning.

     Three days after the quarrel, Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch 

Oblonsky-- Stiva, as he was called in the fashionable world--

woke up at his usual hour, that is, at eight o'clock in the

morning, not in his wife's bedroom, but on the leather-covered 

sofa in his study. He turned over his stout, well-cared-for

person on the springy sofa, as though he would sink into a

long sleep again; he vigorously embraced the pillow on the

other side and buried his face in it; but all at once he jumped

up, sat up on the sofa, and opened his eyes.