Anna Karenina - Part 3

Vronsky's life was particularly happy in that he had a code of

principles, which defined with unfailing certitude what he ought

and what he ought not to do. This code of principles covered

only a very small circle of contingencies, but then the

principles were never doubtful, and Vronsky, as he never went

outside that circle, had never had a moment's hesitation about

doing what he ought to do. These principles laid down as

invariable rules: that one must pay a cardsharper, but need not

pay a tailor; that one must never tell a lie to a man, but one

may to a woman; that one must never cheat anyone, but one may a

husband; that one must never pardon an insult, but one may give

one and so on. These principles were possibly not reasonable and

not good, but they were of unfailing certainty, and so long as he

adhered to them, Vronsky felt that his heart was at peace and he

could hold his head up. Only quite lately in regard to his

relations with Anna, Vronsky had begun to feel that his code of

principles did not fully cover all possible contingencies, and to

foresee in the future difficulties and perplexities for which he

could find no guiding clue.

His present relation to Anna and to her husband was to his mind

clear and simple. It was clearly and precisely defined in the

code of principles by which he was guided.

She was an honorable woman who had bestowed her love upon him,

and he loved her, and therefore she was in his eyes a woman who

had a right to the same, or even more, respect than a lawful

wife. He would have had his hand chopped off before he would

have allowed himself by a word, by a hint, to humiliate her, or

even to fall short of the fullest respect a woman could look for.

His attitude to society, too, was clear. Everyone might know,

might suspect it, but no one might dare to speak of it. If any

did so, he was ready to force all who might speak to be silent

and to respect the non-existent honor of the woman he loved.

His attitude to the husband was the clearest of all. From the

moment that Anna loved Vronsky, he had regarded his own right

over her as the one thing unassailable. Her husband was simply a

superfluous and tiresome person. No doubt he was in a pitiable

position, but how could that be helped? The one thing the

husband had a right to was to demand satisfaction with a weapon

in his hand, and Vronsky was prepared for this at any minute.