Part One: Chapter 31

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Vronsky had not even tried to sleep all that night. He sat inhis armchair, looking straight before him or scanning the peoplewho got in and out. If he had indeed on previous occasionsstruck and impressed people who did not know him by his air ofunhesitating composure, he seemed now more haughty andself-possessed than ever. He looked at people as if they werethings. A nervous young man, a clerk in a law court, sittingopposite him, hated him for that look. The young man asked himfor a light, and entered into conversation with him, and evenpushed against him, to make him feel that he was not a thing, buta person. But Vronsky gazed at him exactly as he did at thelamp, and the young man made a wry face, feeling that he waslosing his self-possession under the oppression of this refusalto recognize him as a person.

　　Vronsky saw nothing and no one. He felt himself a king, notbecause he believed that he had made an impression on Anna--hedid not yet believe that,--but because the impression she hadmade on him gave him happiness and pride.

　　What would come if it all he did not know, he did not even think.He felt that all his forces, hitherto dissipated, wasted, werecentered on one thing, and bent with fearful energy on oneblissful goal. And he was happy at it. He knew only that he hadtold her the truth, that he had come where she was, that all thehappiness of his life, the only meaning in life for him, now layin seeing and hearing her. And when he got out of the carriageat Bologova to get some seltzer water, and caught sight of Anna,involuntarily his first word had told her just what he thought.And he was glad he had told her it, that she knew it now and wasthinking of it. He did not sleep all night. When he was back inthe carriage, he kept unceasingly going over every position inwhich he had seen her, every word she had uttered, and before hisfancy, making his heart faint with emotion, floated pictures of apossible future.

　　When he got out of the train at Petersburg, he felt after hissleepless night as keen and fresh as after a cold bath. Hepaused near his compartment, waiting for her to get out. "Oncemore," he said to himself, smiling unconsciously, "once more Ishall see her walk, her face; she will say something, turn herhead, glance, smile, maybe." But before he caught sight of her,he saw her husband, whom the station-master was deferentiallyescorting through the crowd. "Ah, yes! The husband." Only nowfor the first time did Vronsky realize clearly the fact thatthere was a person attached to her, a husband. He knew that shehad a husband, but had hardly believed in his existence, and onlynow fully believed in him, with his head and shoulders, and hislegs clad in black trousers; especially when he saw this husbandcalmly take her arm with a sense of property.

　　Seeing Alexey Alexandrovitch with his Petersburg face andseverely self-confident figure, in his round hat, with his ratherprominent spine, he believed in him, and was aware of adisagreeable sensation, such as a man might feel tortured bythirst, who, on reaching a spring, should find a dog, a sheep, ora pig, who has drunk of it and muddied the water. AlexeyAlexandrovitch's manner of walking, with a swing of the hips andflat feet, particularly annoyed Vronsky. He could recognize inno one but himself an indubitable right to love her. But she wasstill the same, and the sight of her affected him the same way,physically reviving him, stirring him, and filling his soul withrapture. He told his German valet, who ran up to him from thesecond class, to take his things and go on, and he himself wentup to her. He saw the first meeting between the husband andwife, and noted with a lover's insight the signs of slightreserve with which she spoke to her husband. "No, she does notlove him and cannot love him," he decided to himself.

　　At the moment when he was approaching Anna Arkadyevna he noticedtoo with joy that she was conscious of his being near, and lookedround, and seeing him, turned again to her husband.

　　"Have you passed a good night?" he asked, bowing to her and herhusband together, and leaving it up to Alexey Alexandrovitch toaccept the bow on his own account, and to recognize it or not, ashe might see fit.

　　"Thank you, very good," she answered.

　　Her face looked weary, and there was not that play of eagernessin it, peeping out in her smile and her eyes; but for a singleinstant, as she glanced at him, there was a flash of something inher eyes, and although the flash died away at once, he was happyfor that moment. She glanced at her husband to find out whetherhe knew Vronsky. Alexey Alexandrovitch looked at Vronsky withdispleasure, vaguely recalling who this was. Vronsky's composureand self-confidence have struck, like a scythe against a stone,upon the cold self-confidence of Alexey Alexandrovitch.

　　"Count Vronsky," said Anna.

　　"Ah! We are acquainted, I believe," said Alexey Alexandrovitchindifferently, giving his hand.

　　"You set off with the mother and you return with the son," hesaid, articulating each syllable, as though each were a separatefavor he was bestowing.

　　"You're back from leave, I suppose?" he said, and without waitingfor a reply, he turned to his wife in his jesting tone: "Well,were a great many tears shed at Moscow at parting?"

　　By addressing his wife like this he gave Vronsky to understandthat he wished to be left alone, and, turning slightly towardshim, he touched his hat; but Vronsky turned to Anna Arkadyevna.

　　"I hope I may have the honor of calling on you," he said.

　　Alexey Alexandrovitch glanced with his weary eyes at Vronsky.

　　"Delighted," he said coldly. "On Mondays we're at home. Mostfortunate," he said to his wife, dismissing Vronsky altogether,"that I should just have half an hour to meet you, so that I canprove my devotion," he went on in the same jesting tone.

　　"You lay too much stress on your devotion for me to value itmuch," she responded in the same jesting tone, involuntarilylistening to the sound of Vronsky's steps behind them. "But whathas it to do with me?" she said to herself, and she began askingher husband how Seryozha had got on without her.

　　"Oh, capitally! Mariette says he has been very good, And...Imust disappoint you...but he has not missed you as your husbandhas. But once more merci, my dear, for giving me a day. Ourdear Samovar will be delighted." (He used to call the CountessLidia Ivanovna, well known in society, a samovar, because she wasalways bubbling over with excitement.) "She has been continuallyasking after you. And, do you know, if I may venture to adviseyou, you should go and see her today. You know how she takeseverything to heart. Just now, with all her own cares, she'sanxious about the Oblonskys being brought together."

　　The Countess Lidia Ivanovna was a friend of her husband's, andthe center of that one of the coteries of the Petersburg worldwith which Anna was, through her husband, in the closestrelations.

　　"But you know I wrote to her?"

　　"Still she'll want to hear details. Go and see her, if you'renot too tired, my dear. Well, Kondraty will take you in thecarriage, while I go to my committee. I shall not be alone atdinner again," Alexey Alexandrovitch went on, no longer in asarcastic tone. "You wouldn't believe how I've missed..." Andwith a long pressure of her hand and a meaning smile, he put herin her carriage.