Thinking it over, Karenin decides a talk is not such a simple matter after all. For the first time he tries to imagine what his wife thinks and feels, whether she could possibly stop loving him and turn to another man. The irrational and illogical feeling of jealousy throws him into confusion. Having always lived for his work in official spheres — a reflection of life — Karenin is horrified to suddenly confront life itself. While composing the speech he would deliver to Anna, he tries to soothe himself. But the sound of a carriage driving up, then the sound of her light step on the stairs, frightens him.
Anna pretends surprise at his request for a talk. Inwardly marvelling at her confident answers, she feels herself clad in an impenetrable armor of falsehood and wonders how easily she can lie. Karenin notices the change immediately. The depths of her soul, always open to him before, now close against him. Looking into her laughing eyes, alarming with their impenetrability, Karenin feels the utter uselessness and idleness of his words.
He warns that her thoughtlessness and indiscretion might cause herself to be spoken of in society, her "too animated conversation" with Count Vronsky this evening which attracted attention, to give an example. Anna responds cheerfully and seems sincere. Reminding her of her duty, for their lives have been joined "not by man but by God" Karenin says this concerns not himself, but Anna and their son. "I have nothing to say," she answers, restraining a smile, "and it really is bed-time."
