The other voice reminded him of his enjoyment, his happiness. And this
second voice stifled the first. He approached her with determination.
And the terrible, irresistible animal feeling mastered him.

Without releasing her from his embrace, Nekhludoff seated her on the
bed, and feeling that something else ought to be done, seated himself
beside her.

"Dmitri Ivanovich, darling, please let me go," she said in a piteous
voice. "Matriena Pavlovna is coming!" she suddenly exclaimed, tearing
herself away.

Matriena Pavlovna was really approaching the door. She entered the
room, holding a quilt on her arm, and, looking reproachfully at
Nekhludoff, angrily rebuked Katiousha for taking the wrong quilt.

Nekhludoff went out in silence. He was not even ashamed. By the
expression of Matriena Pavlovna's face he saw that she condemned him,
and justly so; he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but the
animal feeling, which succeeded his former feeling of pure love to
her, seized him and held sole sway over him; recognizing no other
feeling. He knew now what was necessary to do in order to satisfy that
feeling, and was looking for means to that end.

He was out of sorts all that night. Now he would go to his aunts; now
he returned to his room, or went to the perron, thinking but of one
thing: how to meet her alone. But she avoided him, and Matriena
Pavlovna strove not to lose sight of her.