Vronsky now felt curious to hear and to know what Serpukhovskoï would say to him.
"And this is my idea: Women are the principal stumbling-block in the way of a man's activity. It is hard to love a woman, and to do anything else. There is only one way to love with comfort, and without hindrance; and that is, to marry. And how can I explain to you what I mean," continued Serpukhovskoï, who was fond of metaphors, — "wait, wait!.... yes! how can you carry a burden and do anything with your hands until the burden is tied on your back ? And so it is with marriage. And I found this out when I married. My hands suddenly became free. But to carry this fardeau without marriage, your hands will be so full that you can't do anything. Look at Mazankof, Krupof. They ruined their careers through women."
"But what women!" said Vronsky, remembering the Frenchwoman and the actress for whom these two men had formed attachments.
"The higher the woman is in the social scale, the greater the difficulty. It is just the same as — not to carry your fardeau in your hands, but to tear it from some other man."
"You have never loved," murmured Vronsky, looking straight ahead, and thinking of Anna.
"Perhaps; but you think of what I have told you. And one thing more: women are all more material than men. We make something immense out of love, but they are all terre-à-terre — of the earth, earthy."
"Will be there immediately!" he said, addressing the lackey who was coming into the room. But the lackey was not a messenger for him, as he supposed. The lackey brought Vronsky a note.
"A man brought this from the Princess Tverskaya."
Vronsky hastily read the note, and grew red in the face.
"I have a headache. I am going home," said he to Serpukhovskoï.
"Well, then, proshchaï! farewell; will you give me carte blanche?"
"We will talk about it by and by, I will call on you in Petersburg."
