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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 114/828
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The
hero
of
the
novel
was
already
almost
reaching
his
English
happiness
,
a
baronetcy
and
an
estate
,
and
Anna
was
feeling
a
desire
to
go
with
him
to
the
estate
,
when
she
suddenly
felt
that
he
ought
to
feel
ashamed
,
and
that
she
was
ashamed
of
the
same
thing
.
But
what
had
he
to
be
ashamed
of
?
“
What
have
I
to
be
ashamed
of
?
”
she
asked
herself
in
injured
surprise
.
She
laid
down
the
book
and
sank
against
the
back
of
the
chair
,
tightly
gripping
the
paper
-
cutter
in
both
hands
.
There
was
nothing
.
She
went
over
all
her
Moscow
recollections
.
All
were
good
,
pleasant
.
She
remembered
the
ball
,
remembered
Vronsky
and
his
face
of
slavish
adoration
,
remembered
all
her
conduct
with
him
:
there
was
nothing
shameful
.
And
for
all
that
,
at
the
same
point
in
her
memories
,
the
feeling
of
shame
was
intensified
,
as
though
some
inner
voice
,
just
at
the
point
when
she
thought
of
Vronsky
,
were
saying
to
her
,
“
Warm
,
very
warm
,
hot
.
”
“
Well
,
what
is
it
?
”
she
said
to
herself
resolutely
,
shifting
her
seat
in
the
lounge
.
“
What
does
it
mean
?
Am
I
afraid
to
look
it
straight
in
the
face
?
Why
,
what
is
it
?
Can
it
be
that
between
me
and
this
officer
boy
there
exist
,
or
can
exist
,
any
other
relations
than
such
as
are
common
with
every
acquaintance
?
”
She
laughed
contemptuously
and
took
up
her
book
again
;
but
now
she
was
definitely
unable
to
follow
what
she
read
.
She
passed
the
paper
-
knife
over
the
window
pane
,
then
laid
its
smooth
,
cool
surface
to
her
cheek
,
and
almost
laughed
aloud
at
the
feeling
of
delight
that
all
at
once
without
cause
came
over
her
.
She
felt
as
though
her
nerves
were
strings
being
strained
tighter
and
tighter
on
some
sort
of
screwing
peg
.
She
felt
her
eyes
opening
wider
and
wider
,
her
fingers
and
toes
twitching
nervously
,
something
within
oppressing
her
breathing
,
while
all
shapes
and
sounds
seemed
in
the
uncertain
half
-
light
to
strike
her
with
unaccustomed
vividness
.
Moments
of
doubt
were
continually
coming
upon
her
,
when
she
was
uncertain
whether
the
train
were
going
forwards
or
backwards
,
or
were
standing
still
altogether
;
whether
it
were
Annushka
at
her
side
or
a
stranger
.
“
What
’
s
that
on
the
arm
of
the
chair
,
a
fur
cloak
or
some
beast
?
And
what
am
I
myself
?
Myself
or
some
other
woman
?
”
She
was
afraid
of
giving
way
to
this
delirium
.
But
something
drew
her
towards
it
,
and
she
could
yield
to
it
or
resist
it
at
will
.
She
got
up
to
rouse
herself
,
and
slipped
off
her
plaid
and
the
cape
of
her
warm
dress
.
For
a
moment
she
regained
her
self
-
possession
,
and
realized
that
the
thin
peasant
who
had
come
in
wearing
a
long
overcoat
,
with
buttons
missing
from
it
,
was
the
stoveheater
,
that
he
was
looking
at
the
thermometer
,
that
it
was
the
wind
and
snow
bursting
in
after
him
at
the
door
;
but
then
everything
grew
blurred
again
.
.
.
.
That
peasant
with
the
long
waist
seemed
to
be
gnawing
something
on
the
wall
,
the
old
lady
began
stretching
her
legs
the
whole
length
of
the
carriage
,
and
filling
it
with
a
black
cloud
;
then
there
was
a
fearful
shrieking
and
banging
,
as
though
someone
were
being
torn
to
pieces
;
then
there
was
a
blinding
dazzle
of
red
fire
before
her
eyes
and
a
wall
seemed
to
rise
up
and
hide
everything
.
Anna
felt
as
though
she
were
sinking
down
.
But
it
was
not
terrible
,
but
delightful
.
The
voice
of
a
man
muffled
up
and
covered
with
snow
shouted
something
in
her
ear
.
She
got
up
and
pulled
herself
together
;
she
realized
that
they
had
reached
a
station
and
that
this
was
the
guard
.
She
asked
Annushka
to
hand
her
the
cape
she
had
taken
off
and
her
shawl
,
put
them
on
and
moved
towards
the
door
.
“
Do
you
wish
to
get
out
?
”
asked
Annushka
.
“
Yes
,
I
want
a
little
air
.
It
’
s
very
hot
in
here
.
”
And
she
opened
the
door
The
driving
snow
and
the
wind
rushed
to
meet
her
and
struggled
with
her
over
the
door
.
But
she
enjoyed
the
struggle
.
She
opened
the
door
and
went
out
.
The
wind
seemed
as
though
lying
in
wait
for
her
;
with
gleeful
whistle
it
tried
to
snatch
her
up
and
bear
her
off
,
but
she
clung
to
the
cold
door
post
,
and
holding
her
skirt
got
down
onto
the
platform
and
under
the
shelter
of
the
carriages
.
The
wind
had
been
powerful
on
the
steps
,
but
on
the
platform
,
under
the
lee
of
the
carriages
,
there
was
a
lull
.
With
enjoyment
she
drew
deep
breaths
of
the
frozen
,
snowy
air
,
and
standing
near
the
carriage
looked
about
the
platform
and
the
lighted
station
.
The
raging
tempest
rushed
whistling
between
the
wheels
of
the
carriages
,
about
the
scaffolding
,
and
round
the
corner
of
the
station
.
The
carriages
,
posts
,
people
,
everything
that
was
to
be
seen
was
covered
with
snow
on
one
side
,
and
was
getting
more
and
more
thickly
covered
.
For
a
moment
there
would
come
a
lull
in
the
storm
,
but
then
it
would
swoop
down
again
with
such
onslaughts
that
it
seemed
impossible
to
stand
against
it
.
Meanwhile
men
ran
to
and
fro
,
talking
merrily
together
,
their
steps
crackling
on
the
platform
as
they
continually
opened
and
closed
the
big
doors
.
The
bent
shadow
of
a
man
glided
by
at
her
feet
,
and
she
heard
sounds
of
a
hammer
upon
iron
.
“
Hand
over
that
telegram
!
”
came
an
angry
voice
out
of
the
stormy
darkness
on
the
other
side
.
“
This
way
!
No
.
28
!
”
several
different
voices
shouted
again
,
and
muffled
figures
ran
by
covered
with
snow
.
Two
gentlemen
with
lighted
cigarettes
passed
by
her
.
She
drew
one
more
deep
breath
of
the
fresh
air
,
and
had
just
put
her
hand
out
of
her
muff
to
take
hold
of
the
door
post
and
get
back
into
the
carriage
,
when
another
man
in
a
military
overcoat
,
quite
close
beside
her
,
stepped
between
her
and
the
flickering
light
of
the
lamp
post
.
She
looked
round
,
and
the
same
instant
recognized
Vronsky
’
s
face
.
Putting
his
hand
to
the
peak
of
his
cap
,
he
bowed
to
her
and
asked
,
Was
there
anything
she
wanted
?
Could
he
be
of
any
service
to
her
?
She
gazed
rather
a
long
while
at
him
without
answering
,
and
,
in
spite
of
the
shadow
in
which
he
was
standing
,
she
saw
,
or
fancied
she
saw
,
both
the
expression
of
his
face
and
his
eyes
.
It
was
again
that
expression
of
reverential
ecstasy
which
had
so
worked
upon
her
the
day
before
.
More
than
once
she
had
told
herself
during
the
past
few
days
,
and
again
only
a
few
moments
before
,
that
Vronsky
was
for
her
only
one
of
the
hundreds
of
young
men
,
forever
exactly
the
same
,
that
are
met
everywhere
,
that
she
would
never
allow
herself
to
bestow
a
thought
upon
him
.
But
now
at
the
first
instant
of
meeting
him
,
she
was
seized
by
a
feeling
of
joyful
pride
.
She
had
no
need
to
ask
why
he
had
come
.
She
knew
as
certainly
as
if
he
had
told
her
that
he
was
here
to
be
where
she
was
.
“
I
didn
’
t
know
you
were
going
.
What
are
you
coming
for
?
”
she
said
,
letting
fall
the
hand
with
which
she
had
grasped
the
door
post
.
And
irrepressible
delight
and
eagerness
shone
in
her
face
.
