When he got home, Vronsky found there a note from Anna. She

wrote, "I am ill and unhappy. I cannot come out, but I cannot go

on longer without seeing you. Come in this evening. Alexey

Alexandrovitch goes to the council at seven and will be there

till ten." Thinking for an instant of the strangeness of her

bidding him come straight to her, in spite of her husband's

insisting on her not receiving him, he decided to go.

Vronsky had that winter got his promotion, was now a colonel, had

left the regimental quarters, and was living alone. After having

some lunch, he lay down on the sofa immediately, and in five

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minutes memories of the hideous scenes he had witnessed during

the last few days were confused together and joined on to a

mental image of Anna and of the peasant who had played an

important part in the bear hunt, and Vronsky fell asleep. He

waked up in the dark, trembling with horror, and made haste to

light a candle. "What was it? What? What was the dreadful

thing I dreamed? Yes, yes; I think a little dirty man with a

disheveled beard was stooping down doing something, and all of a

sudden he began saying some strange words in French. Yes, there

was nothing else in the dream," he said to himself. "But why was

it so awful?" He vividly recalled the peasant again and those

incomprehensible French words the peasant had uttered, and a

chill of horror ran down his spine.

"What nonsense!" thought Vronsky, and glanced at his watch.

It was half-past eight already. He rang up his servant, dressed

in haste, and went out onto the steps, completely forgetting the

dream and only worried at being late. As he drove up to the

Karenins' entrance he looked at his watch and saw it was ten

minutes to nine. A high, narrow carriage with a pair of grays

was standing at the entrance. He recognized Anna's carriage.

"She is coming to me," thought Vronsky, "and better she should.

I don't like going into that house. But no matter; I can't hide

myself," he thought, and with that manner peculiar to him from

childhood, as of a man who has nothing to be ashamed of, Vronsky

got out of his sledge and went to the door. The door opened, and

the hall porter with a rug on his arm called the carriage.

Vronsky, though he did not usually notice details, noticed at

this moment the amazed expression with which the porter glanced

at him. In the very doorway Vronsky almost ran up against Alexey

Alexandrovitch. The gas jet threw its full light on the

bloodless, sunken face under the black hat and on the white

cravat, brilliant against the beaver of the coat. Karenin's

fixed, dull eyes were fastened upon Vronsky's face. Vronsky

bowed, and Alexey Alexandrovitch, chewing his lips, lifted his

hand to his hat and went on. Vronsky saw him without looking

round get into the carriage, pick up the rug and the opera-glass

at the window and disappear. Vronsky went into the hall. His

brows were scowling, and his eyes gleamed with a proud and angry

light in them.




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