gard her the same as his wife; and he asked him to explain this to his mother and sister-in-law.
"The world may not approve of me; that is all one to me," he added; "but if my family wish to remain on good terms with me, they must show proper respect for my wife."
The elder brother, always very respectful of his brother's opinions, was not very certain in his own mind whether he was doing right or not, and resolved to let society settle this question; but, as far as he himself was concerned, he saw nothing objectionable in this, and he went with Alekseï to call on Anna.
Vronsky spoke to Anna with the formal vui, you, as he always did before strangers, and treated her as a mere acquaintance; but it was perfectly understood that the brother knew of their relations, and they spoke freely of Anna's visit to Vronsky's estate.
Notwithstanding his experience in society, Vronsky, in consequence of this new state of things, fell into a strange error. It would seem as if he ought to have understood that society would shut its doors on him and Anna; but now he persuaded himself by a strange freak of imagination that, however it might have been in former days, now, owing to the rapid progress made by society, — and he had himself unconsciously become a strong supporter of progress, — prejudices would have melted away, and the question whether they would be received by society would not trouble them.
"Of course, she would not be received at court," he thought; "but our relatives, our friends, will understand things as they are."
A man may sit for some time with his legs doubled up in one position, provided he knows that he can change it at pleasure; but if he knows that he must sit in such a constrained position, then he will feel cramped, and his legs will twitch and stretch out toward the desired freedom. Vronsky experienced this in regard to society. Though he knew in the bottom of his soul that society was closed to them, he made experiment whether it had changed, and whether it would receive them
