"and it would be better. It is disagreeable for me to go into this house, but it makes no difference to me, I cannot conceal myself;" and, with the manner of a man accustomed from childhood to act above board, he left his sleigh, and mounted the steps. The door opened, and the Swiss, carrying a plaid, motioned to the carriage to draw near. Vronsky, who was not accustomed to observe details, was struck by the look of astonishment which the Swiss gave him. At the door Vronsky came near running into Alekseï Aleksandrovitch. A gaslight placed at the entrance of the vestibule threw full light on his pale, worn face. He wore a black hat, and a white cravat showing under a fur collar. Karenin's gloomy, dull eyes fixed themselves on Vronsky, who bowed. Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, drawing his lips together, raised his hand to his hat, and passed. Vronsky saw him get into his carriage without turning round, take his plaid and opera-glass, which the Swiss servant handed through the door, and disappear.
Vronsky went into the anteroom. His brows were contracted, and his eyes flashed with anger and outraged pride.
"What a situation!" thought Vronsky. "If he would fight to defend his honor, I should know what to do to express my sentiments; but this weakness or cowardice.... He places me in the position of a deceiver, which I never was and never will be."
Since the explanation that he had had with Anna in the Vrede garden, Vronsky's idea had greatly changed. Involuntarily overcome by Anna's weakness, — for she had given herself to him without reserve and expected from him only the decision as to her future fate, — Vronsky had long ceased to think that this liaison might end as he had supposed it would. His ambitious plans had again been relegated to the background, and he, feeling that he had definitely left that circle of activity where everything was determined, gave himself up entirely to his feeling, and this feeling drew him more and more vigorously toward her.
Even in the reception-room, he heard her footsteps
