| PART 8
Chapter 5
 In the slanting evening shadows cast by the baggage piled up on
 the platform, Vronsky in his long overcoat and slouch hat, with
 his hands in his pockets, strode up and down, like a wild beast
 in a cage, turning sharply after twenty paces.  Sergey Ivanovitch
 fancied, as he approached him, that Vronsky saw him but was
 pretending not to see.  This did not affect Sergey Ivanovitch in
 the slightest.  He was above all personal considerations with
 Vronsky. At that moment Sergey Ivanovitch looked upon Vronsky as a man
 taking an important part in a great cause, and Koznishev thought
 it his duty to encourage him and express his approval.  He went
 up to him. Vronsky stood still, looked intently at him, recognized him, and
 going a few steps forward to meet him, shook hands with him very
 warmly. "Possibly you didn't wish to see me," said Sergey Ivanovitch,
 "but couldn't I be of use to you?" "There's no one I should less dislike seeing than you," said
 Vronsky.  "Excuse me; and there's nothing in life for me to
 like." "I quite understand, and I merely meant to offer you my
 services," said Sergey Ivanovitch, scanning Vronsky's face, full
 of unmistakable suffering.  "Wouldn't it be of use to you to have
 a letter to Ristitch--to Milan?" "Oh, no!" Vronsky said, seeming to understand him with
 difficulty.  "If you don't mind, let's walk on.  It's so stuffy
 among the carriages.  A letter?  No, thank you; to meet death one
 needs no letters of introduction.  Nor for the Turks..." he said,
 with a smile that was merely of the lips.  His eyes still kept
 their look of angry suffering. "Yes; but you might find it easier to get into relations, which
 are after all essential, with anyone prepared to see you.  But
 that's as you like.  I was very glad to hear of your intention.
 There have been so many attacks made on the volunteers, and a man
 like you raises them in public estimation." |