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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 326/828
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“
My
head
’
s
begun
to
ache
;
I
’
m
going
home
,
”
he
said
to
Serpuhovskoy
.
“
Oh
,
good
-
bye
then
.
You
give
me
carte
blanche
!
”
“
We
’
ll
talk
about
it
later
on
;
I
’
ll
look
you
up
in
Petersburg
.
”
It
was
six
o
’
clock
already
,
and
so
,
in
order
to
be
there
quickly
,
and
at
the
same
time
not
to
drive
with
his
own
horses
,
known
to
everyone
,
Vronsky
got
into
Yashvin
’
s
hired
fly
,
and
told
the
driver
to
drive
as
quickly
as
possible
.
It
was
a
roomy
,
old
-
fashioned
fly
,
with
seats
for
four
.
He
sat
in
one
corner
,
stretched
his
legs
out
on
the
front
seat
,
and
sank
into
meditation
.
A
vague
sense
of
the
order
into
which
his
affairs
had
been
brought
,
a
vague
recollection
of
the
friendliness
and
flattery
of
Serpuhovskoy
,
who
had
considered
him
a
man
that
was
needed
,
and
most
of
all
,
the
anticipation
of
the
interview
before
him
—
all
blended
into
a
general
,
joyous
sense
of
life
.
This
feeling
was
so
strong
that
he
could
not
help
smiling
.
He
dropped
his
legs
,
crossed
one
leg
over
the
other
knee
,
and
taking
it
in
his
hand
,
felt
the
springy
muscle
of
the
calf
,
where
it
had
been
grazed
the
day
before
by
his
fall
,
and
leaning
back
he
drew
several
deep
breaths
.
“
I
’
m
happy
,
very
happy
!
”
he
said
to
himself
.
He
had
often
before
had
this
sense
of
physical
joy
in
his
own
body
,
but
he
had
never
felt
so
fond
of
himself
,
of
his
own
body
,
as
at
that
moment
.
He
enjoyed
the
slight
ache
in
his
strong
leg
,
he
enjoyed
the
muscular
sensation
of
movement
in
his
chest
as
he
breathed
.
The
bright
,
cold
August
day
,
which
had
made
Anna
feel
so
hopeless
,
seemed
to
him
keenly
stimulating
,
and
refreshed
his
face
and
neck
that
still
tingled
from
the
cold
water
.
The
scent
of
brilliantine
on
his
whiskers
struck
him
as
particularly
pleasant
in
the
fresh
air
.
Everything
he
saw
from
the
carriage
window
,
everything
in
that
cold
pure
air
,
in
the
pale
light
of
the
sunset
,
was
as
fresh
,
and
gay
,
and
strong
as
he
was
himself
:
the
roofs
of
the
houses
shining
in
the
rays
of
the
setting
sun
,
the
sharp
outlines
of
fences
and
angles
of
buildings
,
the
figures
of
passers
-
by
,
the
carriages
that
met
him
now
and
then
,
the
motionless
green
of
the
trees
and
grass
,
the
fields
with
evenly
drawn
furrows
of
potatoes
,
and
the
slanting
shadows
that
fell
from
the
houses
,
and
trees
,
and
bushes
,
and
even
from
the
rows
of
potatoes
—
everything
was
bright
like
a
pretty
landscape
just
finished
and
freshly
varnished
.
“
Get
on
,
get
on
!
”
he
said
to
the
driver
,
putting
his
head
out
of
the
window
,
and
pulling
a
three
-
rouble
note
out
of
his
pocket
he
handed
it
to
the
man
as
he
looked
round
.
The
driver
’
s
hand
fumbled
with
something
at
the
lamp
,
the
whip
cracked
,
and
the
carriage
rolled
rapidly
along
the
smooth
highroad
.
“
I
want
nothing
,
nothing
but
this
happiness
,
”
he
thought
,
staring
at
the
bone
button
of
the
bell
in
the
space
between
the
windows
,
and
picturing
to
himself
Anna
just
as
he
had
seen
her
last
time
.
“
And
as
I
go
on
,
I
love
her
more
and
more
.
Here
’
s
the
garden
of
the
Vrede
Villa
.
Whereabouts
will
she
be
?
Where
?
How
?
Why
did
she
fix
on
this
place
to
meet
me
,
and
why
does
she
write
in
Betsy
’
s
letter
?
”
he
thought
,
wondering
now
for
the
first
time
at
it
.
But
there
was
now
no
time
for
wonder
.
He
called
to
the
driver
to
stop
before
reaching
the
avenue
,
and
opening
the
door
,
jumped
out
of
the
carriage
as
it
was
moving
,
and
went
into
the
avenue
that
led
up
to
the
house
.
There
was
no
one
in
the
avenue
;
but
looking
round
to
the
right
he
caught
sight
of
her
.
Her
face
was
hidden
by
a
veil
,
but
he
drank
in
with
glad
eyes
the
special
movement
in
walking
,
peculiar
to
her
alone
,
the
slope
of
the
shoulders
,
and
the
setting
of
the
head
,
and
at
once
a
sort
of
electric
shock
ran
all
over
him
.
With
fresh
force
,
he
felt
conscious
of
himself
from
the
springy
motions
of
his
legs
to
the
movements
of
his
lungs
as
he
breathed
,
and
something
set
his
lips
twitching
.
