Anna Karenina - Part 7

"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.

Making her way through the crowd to the first-class waiting-room,

she gradually recollected all the details of her position, and

the plans between which she was hesitating. And again at the old

sore places, hope and then despair poisoned the wounds of her

tortured, fearfully throbbing heart. As she sat on the

star-shaped sofa waiting for the train, she gazed with aversion

at the people coming and going (they were all hateful to her),

and thought how she would arrive at the station, would write him

a note, and what she would write to him, and how he was at this

moment complaining to his mother of his position, not

understanding her sufferings, and how she would go into the room,

and what she would say to him. Then she thought that life might

still be happy, and how miserably she loved and hated him, and

how fearfully her heart was beating.