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Updated: May 10, 2025
They don't know how dreary it is, how low.... The boulevard and the children. Three boys running, playing at horses. Seryozha! And I'm losing everything and not getting him back. Yes, I'm losing everything, if he doesn't return. Perhaps he was late for the train and has come back by now. Longing for humiliation again!" she said to herself.
"I expected it to be the other way," said Darya Alexandrovna shyly. "Oh, no! By the way, do you know I saw Seryozha?" said Anna, screwing up her eyes, as though looking at something far away. "But we'll talk about that later. You wouldn't believe it, I'm like a hungry beggar woman when a full dinner is set before her, and she does not know what to begin on first.
In death, of which they talked to him so often, Seryozha disbelieved entirely. He did not believe that those he loved could die, above all that he himself would die. That was to him something utterly inconceivable and impossible.
We are drawn apart by life, and I make his unhappiness, and he mine, and there's no altering him or me. Every attempt has been made, the screw has come unscrewed. Oh, a beggar woman with a baby. She thinks I'm sorry for her. Aren't we all flung into the world only to hate each other, and so to torture ourselves and each other? Schoolboys coming laughing Seryozha?" she thought.
Only I don't know what he will decide about Seryozha." He could not conceive how at this moment of their meeting she could remember and think of her son, of divorce. What did it all matter? "Don't speak of that, don't think of it," he said, turning her hand in his, and trying to draw her attention to him; but still she did not look at him.
Of course every one knew that there were no faster dogs in the world than our black-and-white Darling and her daughter Wizard. Not a hare could get away from them. But Uncle Seryozha said that the gray hares about us were sluggish creatures, not at all the same thing as steppe hares, and neither Darling nor Wizard would get near a steppe hare.
Anna took out the presents Dolly's children had sent him, and told her son what sort of little girl was Tanya at Moscow, and how Tanya could read, and even taught the other children. "Why, am I not so nice as she?" asked Seryozha. "To me you're nicer than anyone in the world." "I know that," said Seryozha, smiling.
"And has anything been left?" asked Seryozha, after a pause. "Come, sir," said the hall-porter; then with a shake of his head he whispered, "Something from the countess." Seryozha understood at once that what the hall porter was speaking of was a present from Countess Lidia Ivanovna for his birthday. "What do you say? Where?" "Korney took it to your papa. A fine plaything it must be too!"
This was the same long-familiar tone his father always took with him, and Seryozha had learned by now to fall in with it. His father always talked to him so Seryozha felt as though he were addressing some boy of his own imagination, one of those boys that exist in books, utterly unlike himself. And Seryozha always tried with his father to act being the story-book boy.
Seryozha had been shy of his father before, and now, ever since Alexey Alexandrovitch had taken to calling him young man, and since that insoluble question had occurred to him whether Vronsky were a friend or a foe, he avoided his father. He looked round towards his mother as though seeking shelter. It was only with his mother that he was at ease.
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