| PART 6
Chapter 32
 Before Vronsky's departure for the elections, Anna had reflected
 that the scenes constantly repeated between them each time he
 left home, might only make him cold to her instead of attaching
 him to her, and resolved to do all she could to control herself
 so as to bear the parting with composure.  But the cold, severe
 glance with which he had looked at her when he came to tell her
 he was going had wounded her, and before he had started her peace
 of mind was destroyed. In solitude afterwards, thinking over that glance which had
 expressed his right to freedom, she came, as she always did, to
 the same point--the sense of her own humiliation.  "He has the
 right to go away when and where he chooses.  Not simply to go
 away, but to leave me.  He has every right, and I have none. 
 But knowing that, he ought not to do it.  What has he done,
 though?...  He looked at me with a cold, severe expression.  Of
 course that is something indefinable, impalpable, but it has
 never been so before, and that glance means a great deal," she
 thought.  "That glance shows the beginning of indifference." And though she felt sure that a coldness was beginning, there was
 nothing she could do, she could not in any way alter her
 relations to him.  Just as before, only by love and by charm
 could she keep him.  And so, just as before, only by occupation
 in the day, by morphine at night, could she stifle the fearful
 thought of what would be if he ceased to love her.  It is true
 there was still one means; not to keep him--for that she wanted
 nothing more than his love--but to be nearer to him, to be in
 such a position that he would not leave her.  That means was
 divorce and marriage.  And she began to long for that, and made
 up her mind to agree to it the first time he or Stiva approached
 her on the subject. Absorbed in such thoughts, she passed five days without him, the
 five days that he was to be at the elections. |