The engine had already whistled in the distance. A few instants

later the platform was quivering, and with puffs of steam hanging

low in the air from the frost, the engine rolled up, with the

lever of the middle wheel rhythmically moving up and down, and

the stooping figure of the engine-driver covered with frost.

Behind the tender, setting the platform more and more slowly

swaying, came the luggage van with a dog whining in it. At last

the passenger carriages rolled in, oscillating before coming to a

standstill.

A smart guard jumped out, giving a whistle, and after him one by

one the impatient passengers began to get down: an officer of

the guards, holding himself erect, and looking severely about

him; a nimble little merchant with a satchel, smiling gaily; a

peasant with a sack over his shoulder.

Vronsky, standing beside Oblonsky, watched the carriages and the

passengers, totally oblivious of his mother. What he had just

heard about Kitty excited and delighted him. Unconsciously he

arched his chest, and his eyes flashed. He felt himself a

conqueror.

"Countess Vronskaya is in that compartment," said the smart

guard, going up to Vronsky.

The guard's words roused him, and forced him to think of his

mother and his approaching meeting with her. He did not in his

heart respect his mother, and without acknowledging it to

himself, he did not love her, though in accordance with the

ideas of the set in which he lived, and with his own education,

he could not have conceived of any behavior to his mother not in

the highest degree respectful and obedient, and the more

externally obedient and respectful his behavior, the less in his

heart he respected and loved her.




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