All through dinner Anna was aggressively lively, and seemed to flirt both with Tushkievitch and with Yashvin. When they rose from the table, Tushkievitch went to secure a box, but Yashvin was going to smoke and Vronsky took him down to his own room; after some time Vronsky came up-stairs again. Anna was already dressed in a light silk gown bought in Paris. It was trimmed with velvet and had an open front. On her head she wore costly white lace, which set off to advantage the striking beauty of her face.
"Are you really going to the theater?" he asked, trying to avoid looking at her.
"Why do you ask me in such a terrified way?" she replied, again hurt because he did not look at her. "Why shouldn't I go?"
She did not seem to understand the meaning of his words.
"Of course, there is no reason for it," said he; frowning.
"That is exactly what I say," she replied, not wishing to see the sarcasm of his remark, and calmly putting on a long, perfumed glove.
"Anna, for heaven's sake, what is the matter with you?" he said to her, trying to bring her to her senses, as her husband had more than once done.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You know very well that you can't go there."
"Why not? I am not going alone; the Princess Varvara has gone to dress; she is going with me."
He shrugged his shoulders with a look of perplexity and despair.
"But don't you know?" .... he began.
"No, I don't want to know!" she almost shrieked. "I don't want to know. Am I sorry for anything I have done? No, no, no, indeed; if it were to begin over again, I would begin over again. There is only one thing of any consequence to us—to you and me, and that is do we love each other? Everything else is of no account. Why do we live separate here, and not see each other? Why can't I go where I please? I love you, and everything is right, if your feelings have
