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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 778/828
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“
Here
it
is
again
!
Again
I
understand
it
all
!
”
Anna
said
to
herself
,
as
soon
as
the
carriage
had
started
and
swaying
lightly
,
rumbled
over
the
tiny
cobbles
of
the
paved
road
,
and
again
one
impression
followed
rapidly
upon
another
.
“
Yes
;
what
was
the
last
thing
I
thought
of
so
clearly
?
”
she
tried
to
recall
it
.
“
‘
Tiutkin
,
coiffeur
?
’
—
no
,
not
that
.
Yes
,
of
what
Yashvin
says
,
the
struggle
for
existence
and
hatred
is
the
one
thing
that
holds
men
together
.
No
,
it
’
s
a
useless
journey
you
’
re
making
,
”
she
said
,
mentally
addressing
a
party
in
a
coach
and
four
,
evidently
going
for
an
excursion
into
the
country
.
“
And
the
dog
you
’
re
taking
with
you
will
be
no
help
to
you
.
You
can
’
t
get
away
from
yourselves
.
”
Turning
her
eyes
in
the
direction
Pyotr
had
turned
to
look
,
she
saw
a
factory
-
hand
almost
dead
-
drunk
,
with
hanging
head
,
being
led
away
by
a
policeman
.
“
Come
,
he
’
s
found
a
quicker
way
,
”
she
thought
.
“
Count
Vronsky
and
I
did
not
find
that
happiness
either
,
though
we
expected
so
much
from
it
.
”
And
now
for
the
first
time
Anna
turned
that
glaring
light
in
which
she
was
seeing
everything
on
to
her
relations
with
him
,
which
she
had
hitherto
avoided
thinking
about
.
“
What
was
it
he
sought
in
me
?
Not
love
so
much
as
the
satisfaction
of
vanity
.
”
She
remembered
his
words
,
the
expression
of
his
face
,
that
recalled
an
abject
setter
-
dog
,
in
the
early
days
of
their
connection
.
And
everything
now
confirmed
this
.
“
Yes
,
there
was
the
triumph
of
success
in
him
.
Of
course
there
was
love
too
,
but
the
chief
element
was
the
pride
of
success
.
He
boasted
of
me
.
Now
that
’
s
over
.
There
’
s
nothing
to
be
proud
of
.
Not
to
be
proud
of
,
but
to
be
ashamed
of
.
He
has
taken
from
me
all
he
could
,
and
now
I
am
no
use
to
him
.
He
is
weary
of
me
and
is
trying
not
to
be
dishonorable
in
his
behavior
to
me
.
He
let
that
out
yesterday
—
he
wants
divorce
and
marriage
so
as
to
burn
his
ships
.
He
loves
me
,
but
how
?
The
zest
is
gone
,
as
the
English
say
.
That
fellow
wants
everyone
to
admire
him
and
is
very
much
pleased
with
himself
,
”
she
thought
,
looking
at
a
red
-
faced
clerk
,
riding
on
a
riding
-
school
horse
.
“
Yes
,
there
’
s
not
the
same
flavor
about
me
for
him
now
.
If
I
go
away
from
him
,
at
the
bottom
of
his
heart
he
will
be
glad
.
”
This
was
not
mere
supposition
,
she
saw
it
distinctly
in
the
piercing
light
,
which
revealed
to
her
now
the
meaning
of
life
and
human
relations
.
“
My
love
keeps
growing
more
passionate
and
egoistic
,
while
his
is
waning
and
waning
,
and
that
’
s
why
we
’
re
drifting
apart
.
”
She
went
on
musing
.
“
And
there
’
s
no
help
for
it
.
He
is
everything
for
me
,
and
I
want
him
more
and
more
to
give
himself
up
to
me
entirely
.
And
he
wants
more
and
more
to
get
away
from
me
.
We
walked
to
meet
each
other
up
to
the
time
of
our
love
,
and
then
we
have
been
irresistibly
drifting
in
different
directions
.
And
there
’
s
no
altering
that
.
He
tells
me
I
’
m
insanely
jealous
,
and
I
have
told
myself
that
I
am
insanely
jealous
;
but
it
’
s
not
true
.
I
’
m
not
jealous
,
but
I
’
m
unsatisfied
.
But
.
.
.
.
”
she
opened
her
lips
,
and
shifted
her
place
in
the
carriage
in
the
excitement
,
aroused
by
the
thought
that
suddenly
struck
her
.
“
If
I
could
be
anything
but
a
mistress
,
passionately
caring
for
nothing
but
his
caresses
;
but
I
can
’
t
and
I
don
’
t
care
to
be
anything
else
.
And
by
that
desire
I
rouse
aversion
in
him
,
and
he
rouses
fury
in
me
,
and
it
cannot
be
different
.
Don
’
t
I
know
that
he
wouldn
’
t
deceive
me
,
that
he
has
no
schemes
about
Princess
Sorokina
,
that
he
’
s
not
in
love
with
Kitty
,
that
he
won
’
t
desert
me
!
I
know
all
that
,
but
it
makes
it
no
better
for
me
.
If
without
loving
me
,
from
duty
he
’
ll
be
good
and
kind
to
me
,
without
what
I
want
,
that
’
s
a
thousand
times
worse
than
unkindness
!
That
’
s
—
hell
!
And
that
’
s
just
how
it
is
.
For
a
long
while
now
he
hasn
’
t
loved
me
.
And
where
love
ends
,
hate
begins
.
I
don
’
t
know
these
streets
at
all
.
Hills
it
seems
,
and
still
houses
,
and
houses
.
.
.
.
And
in
the
houses
always
people
and
people
.
.
.
.
How
many
of
them
,
no
end
,
and
all
hating
each
other
!
Come
,
let
me
try
and
think
what
I
want
,
to
make
me
happy
.
Well
?
Suppose
I
am
divorced
,
and
Alexey
Alexandrovitch
lets
me
have
Seryozha
,
and
I
marry
Vronsky
.
”
Thinking
of
Alexey
Alexandrovitch
,
she
at
once
pictured
him
with
extraordinary
vividness
as
though
he
were
alive
before
her
,
with
his
mild
,
lifeless
,
dull
eyes
,
the
blue
veins
in
his
white
hands
,
his
intonations
and
the
cracking
of
his
fingers
,
and
remembering
the
feeling
which
had
existed
between
them
,
and
which
was
also
called
love
,
she
shuddered
with
loathing
.
“
Well
,
I
’
m
divorced
,
and
become
Vronsky
’
s
wife
.
Well
,
will
Kitty
cease
looking
at
me
as
she
looked
at
me
today
?
No
.
And
will
Seryozha
leave
off
asking
and
wondering
about
my
two
husbands
?
And
is
there
any
new
feeling
I
can
awaken
between
Vronsky
and
me
?
Is
there
possible
,
if
not
happiness
,
some
sort
of
ease
from
misery
?
No
,
no
!
”
she
answered
now
without
the
slightest
hesitation
.
“
Impossible
!
We
are
drawn
apart
by
life
,
and
I
make
his
unhappiness
,
and
he
mine
,
and
there
’
s
no
altering
him
or
me
.
Every
attempt
has
been
made
,
the
screw
has
come
unscrewed
.
Oh
,
a
beggar
woman
with
a
baby
.
She
thinks
I
’
m
sorry
for
her
.
Aren
’
t
we
all
flung
into
the
world
only
to
hate
each
other
,
and
so
to
torture
ourselves
and
each
other
?
Schoolboys
coming
—
laughing
Seryozha
?
”
she
thought
.
“
I
thought
,
too
,
that
I
loved
him
,
and
used
to
be
touched
by
my
own
tenderness
.
But
I
have
lived
without
him
,
I
gave
him
up
for
another
love
,
and
did
not
regret
the
exchange
till
that
love
was
satisfied
.
”
And
with
loathing
she
thought
of
what
she
meant
by
that
love
.
And
the
clearness
with
which
she
saw
life
now
,
her
own
and
all
men
’
s
,
was
a
pleasure
to
her
.
“
It
’
s
so
with
me
and
Pyotr
,
and
the
coachman
,
Fyodor
,
and
that
merchant
,
and
all
the
people
living
along
the
Volga
,
where
those
placards
invite
one
to
go
,
and
everywhere
and
always
,
”
she
thought
when
she
had
driven
under
the
low
-
pitched
roof
of
the
Nizhigorod
station
,
and
the
porters
ran
to
meet
her
.
“
A
ticket
to
Obiralovka
?
”
said
Pyotr
.
She
had
utterly
forgotten
where
and
why
she
was
going
,
and
only
by
a
great
effort
she
understood
the
question
.
“
Yes
,
”
she
said
,
handing
him
her
purse
,
and
taking
a
little
red
bag
in
her
hand
,
she
got
out
of
the
carriage
