pressing the anger which was rising within him; "and I am very sorry if you do not respect...."
"Respect! That was invented to cover up the lack of love. If you don't love me any more, it would be better and more honorable to say so."
"No! this is becoming intolerable," cried the count, suddenly leaping from his chair; and, standing in front of her, speaking in measured tones: "Anna," he asked, "why do you try my patience so?" and she could see how he was holding back the bitter words that were ready to escape him. "It has its limits."
"What do you mean by that?" she cried, looking with terror at the unconcealed expression of hate on his whole face, and especially in his fierce, cruel eyes.
"I mean...." he began. Then he stopped. "I have a right to demand what you wish of me."
"What can I wish? I can only wish that you do not abandon me, as you are thinking of doing," she said, comprehending all that he left unsaid. "Everything else is secondary. I wish to be loved; but love is gone. All is over."
She turned toward the door.
"Stop! sto-op!" said Vronsky, still darkly frowning, but holding her by the arm. "What is the trouble? I said that it is necessary to postpone our starting for three days, and you answer by saying that I lie and am dishonorable."
"Yes; and I repeat it that a man who throws it into my face that he has sacrificed everything for me," said she, alluding to a former quarrel, " is worse than dishonorable: he is heartless."
"That settles it; my patience is at an end," cried Vronsky, quickly dropping her hand.
"He hates me; that is certain," she thought, as she went from the room in silence with tottering steps. "He loves some other woman; that is more certain still," she said to herself, as she reached her room. "I wish to be loved, but love is gone. All is over." She repeated the words that she had said,—"I must put an end to it."
