ing. And, seeing two happy young girls going by, she fell to wondering why they were smiling at each other. "Probably about love. They don't know how sad and wretched it is. .... The boulevards and the children! There are three little boys, playing horse. Serozha! my little Serozha. I shall lose all. I shall never have him again. .... Well, if he does not come back, all is indeed lost. Perhaps he missed the train, and has already reached home. Do I wish to humiliate myself still more?" she said, reproaching herself for her weakness. "No, I'm going to Dolly's. I shall say to her, 'I am unhappy, I am suffering; I deserve it; but I am so unhappy, help me!' Oh, these horses, this calash! how I hate to use them! they are his. I will never see them again!"
While thinking over what she should say to Dolly, and deliberately torturing her heart, she reached the house, and went up the steps.
"Is there any one here?" she asked, in the anteroom.
"Katerina Aleksandrovna Levina," answered the servant.
"Kitty, the same Kitty with whom Vronsky was once in love," thought Anna; "and he thinks of her with love, and is sorry that he did not marry her; and he thinks of me with hate, and is sorry that he ever met me.
When Anna arrived, the two sisters were talking over the subject of feeding babies. Dolly went alone to the drawing-room to receive the guest that had come to disturb their conversation.
"You have n't gone away yet? I was just going to your house," said Dolly, "I have a letter from Stiva to-day."
"We had a despatch," answered Anna, glancing round to see if Kitty was coming.
"He writes that he does not understand what Alekseï Aleksandrovitch requires, but that he will not come away till he has a definite answer."
"I thought you had company. May I read the letter?"
