Anna Karenina - Part 3

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.