That which for Vronsky had been almost a whole year the one

absorbing desire of his life, replacing all his old desires; that

which for Anna had been an impossible, terrible, and even for

that reason more entrancing dream of bliss, that desire had been

fulfilled. He stood before her, pale, his lower jaw quivering,

and besought her to be calm, not knowing how or why.

"Anna! Anna!" he said with a choking voice, "Anna, for pity's

sake!..."

But the louder he spoke, the lower she dropped her once proud and

gay, now shame-stricken head, and she bowed down and sank from

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the sofa where she was sitting, down on the floor, at his feet;

she would have fallen on the carpet if he had not held her.

"My God! Forgive me!" she said, sobbing, pressing his hands to

her bosom.

She felt so sinful, so guilty, that nothing was left her but to

humiliate herself and beg forgiveness; and as now there was no

one in her life but him, to him she addressed her prayer for

forgiveness. Looking at him, she had a physical sense of her

humiliation, and she could say nothing more. He felt what a

murderer must feel, when he sees the body he has robbed of life.

That body, robbed by him of life, was their love, the first stage

of their love. There was something awful and revolting in the

memory of what had been bought at this fearful price of shame.

Shame at their spiritual nakedness crushed her and infected him.

But in spite of all the murderer's horror before the body of his

victim, he must hack it to pieces, hide the body, must use what

he has gained by his murder.

And with fury, as it were with passion, the murderer falls on the

body, and drags it and hacks at it; so he covered her face and

shoulders with kisses. She held his hand, and did not stir.

"Yes, these kisses--that is what has been bought by this shame.

Yes, and one hand, which will always be mine--the hand of my

accomplice." She lifted up that hand and kissed it. He sank on

his knees and tried to see her face; but she hid it, and said

nothing. At last, as though making an effort over herself, she

got up and pushed him away. Her face was still as beautiful, but

it was only the more pitiful for that.

"All is over," she said; "I have nothing but you. Remember

that."

"I can never forget what is my whole life. For one instant of

this happiness..."




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