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Serpuhovskoy had long given up all hope of Vronsky's career, but he liked him as before, and was now particularly cordial to him. "What a pity you were not in time for the first act!" Vronsky, listening with one ear, moved his opera glass from the stalls and scanned the boxes.
He moved the cushion up, and pressed his head into it, but he had to make an effort to keep his eyes shut. He jumped up and sat down. "That's all over for me," he said to himself. "I must think what to do. What is left?" His mind rapidly ran through his life apart from his love of Anna. "Ambition? Serpuhovskoy? Society? The court?" He could not come to a pause anywhere.
A vague sense of the order into which his affairs had been brought, a vague recollection of the friendliness and flattery of Serpuhovskoy, who had considered him a man that was needed, and most of all, the anticipation of the interview before him all blended into a general, joyous sense of life. This feeling was so strong that he could not help smiling.
The only change Vronsky detected in him was that subdued, continual radiance of beaming content which settles on the faces of men who are successful and are sure of the recognition of their success by everyone. Vronsky knew that radiant air, and immediately observed it in Serpuhovskoy. As Serpuhovskoy came down the steps he saw Vronsky. A smile of pleasure lighted up his face.
The smile in his eyes gleamed more brightly than ever. Having once made up his mind that he was happy in his love, that he sacrificed his ambition to it having anyway taken up this position, Vronsky was incapable of feeling either envious of Serpuhovskoy or hurt with him for not coming first to him when he came to the regiment. Serpuhovskoy was a good friend, and he was delighted he had come.
And at that instant there flashed across his mind the thought of what Serpuhovskoy had just said to him, and what he had himself been thinking in the morning that it was better not to bind himself and he knew that this thought he could not tell her. Having read the letter, he raised his eyes to her, and there was no determination in them.
"I'm glad you've been seeing her pretty often." "She's friendly with Varya, and they're the only women in Petersburg I care about seeing," answered Vronsky, smiling. He smiled because he foresaw the topic the conversation would turn on, and he was glad of it. "The only ones?" Serpuhovskoy queried, smiling.
I expected to see you there," said Vronsky, scrutinizing Serpuhovskoy. "I did go, but late. I beg your pardon," he added, and he turned to the adjutant: "Please have this divided from me, each man as much as it runs to." And he hurriedly took notes for three hundred roubles from his pocketbook, blushing a little. "Vronsky! Have anything to eat or drink?" asked Yashvin.
"You always get younger, Bondarenko," he said to the rosy-checked, smart-looking quartermaster standing just before him, still youngish looking though doing his second term of service. It was three years since Vronsky had seen Serpuhovskoy.
"Yes; and I heard news of you, but not only through your wife," said Vronsky, checking his hint by a stern expression of face. "I was greatly delighted to hear of your success, but not a bit surprised. I expected even more." Serpuhovskoy smiled. Such an opinion of him was obviously agreeable to him, and he did not think it necessary to conceal it.
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