ating to me. I am proud of my position, because .... proud that .... proud ...." She did not say why she was proud. Tears of shame and despair choked her utterance. She stopped, and began to sob.
He also felt that something rose in his throat. For the first time in his life he felt ready to cry. He could not have said what affected him so. He was sorry for her, and he felt that he could not help her; and, more than all, he knew that he was the cause of her unhappiness, that he had done something abominable.
"Then a divorce is impossible?" he asked gently.
She shook her head without replying. "Then, could you not take your son, and leave him?"
"Yes; but all this depends on him. Now I must go to him," she said dryly. Her presentiment that all would be as before was verified.
"I shall be in Petersburg Tuesday, and everything will be decided."
"Yes," she repeated. "But we shall not speak any more about that."
Anna's carriage, which she sent away with the order to come back for her at the railing of the Vrede Garden, was approaching. Anna took leave of Vronsky, and went home.
CHAPTER XXIII
The Commission of the 2d of June usually held its sittings on Monday.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch entered the committee-room, bowed to the members and the president as usual, and took his place, laying his hand on the papers made ready for him. Among the number were the data which he needed, and the outline of the proposition that he intended to make. These notes, however, were not necessary. His grasp of the subject was complete, and he did not need to refresh his memory as to what he was going to say. He knew that when the time came, and he should see his adversary vainly endeavoring to put
