"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.
"I want nothing, nothing but this happiness," he thought,
staring at the bone button of the bell in the space between the
windows, and picturing to himself Anna just as he had seen her
last time. "And as I go on, I love her more and more. Here's
the garden of the Vrede Villa. Whereabouts will she be? Where?
How? Why did she fix on this place to meet me, and why does she
write in Betsy's letter?" he thought, wondering now for the first
time at it. But there was now no time for wonder. He called to
the driver to stop before reaching the avenue, and opening the
door, jumped out of the carriage as it was moving, and went into
the avenue that led up to the house. There was no one in the
avenue; but looking round to the right he caught sight of her.
Her face was hidden by a veil, but he drank in with glad eyes the
special movement in walking, peculiar to her alone, the slope of
the shoulders, and the setting of the head, and at once a sort of
electric shock ran all over him. With fresh force, he felt
conscious of himself from the springy motions of his legs to the
movements of his lungs as he breathed, and something set his lips
Joining him, she pressed his hand tightly.
"You're not angry that I sent for you? I absolutely had to see
you," she said; and the serious and set line of her lips, which
he saw under the veil, transformed his mood at once.
"I angry! But how have you come, where from?"
"Never mind," she said, laying her hand on his, "come along, I
must talk to you."