The rain did not last long, and by the time Vronsky arrived, his

shaft-horse trotting at full speed and dragging the trace-horses

galloping through the mud, with their reins hanging loose, the

sun had peeped out again, the roofs of the summer villas and the

old limetrees in the gardens on both sides of the principal

streets sparkled with wet brilliance, and from the twigs came a

pleasant drip and from the roofs rushing streams of water. He

thought no more of the shower spoiling the race course, but was

rejoicing now that--thanks to the rain--he would be sure to

find her at home and alone, as he knew that Alexey

Alexandrovitch, who had lately returned from a foreign watering

place, had not moved from Petersburg.

Hoping to find her alone, Vronsky alighted, as he always did, to

avoid attracting attention, before crossing the bridge, and

walked to the house. He did not go up the steps to the street

door, but went into the court.

"Has your master come?" he asked a gardener.

"No, sir. The mistress is at home. But will you please go to

the front door; there are servants there," the gardener answered.

"They'll open the door."

"No, I'll go in from the garden."

And feeling satisfied that she was alone, and wanting to take her

by surprise, since he had not promised to be there today, and she

would certainly not expect him to come before the races, he

walked, holding his sword and stepping cautiously over the sandy

path, bordered with flowers, to the terrace that looked out upon

the garden. Vronsky forgot now all that he had thought on the

way of the hardships and difficulties of their position. He

thought of nothing but that he would see her directly, not in

imagination, but living, all of her, as she was in reality. He

was just going in, stepping on his whole foot so as not to creak,

up the worn steps of the terrace, when he suddenly remembered

what he always forgot, and what caused the most torturing side of

his relations with her, her son with his questioning--hostile,

as he fancied--eyes.

This boy was more often than anyone else a check upon their

freedom. When he was present, both Vronsky and Anna did not

merely avoid speaking of anything that they could not have

repeated before everyone; they did not even allow themselves to

refer by hints to anything the boy did not understand. They had

made no agreement about this, it had settled itself. They would

have felt it wounding themselves to deceive the child. In his

presence they talked like acquaintances. But in spite of this

caution, Vronsky often saw the child's intent, bewildered glance

fixed upon him, and a strange shyness, uncertainty, at one time

friendliness, at another, coldness and reserve, in the boy's

manner to him; as though the child felt that between this man and

his mother there existed some important bond, the significance of

which he could not understand.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024