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 "Did you pass a good night?" he inquired, bowing to her and her husband and allowing Alekseï Aleksandrovitch the opportunity to accept the honor of the salutation and recognize him or not recognize him as it might seem good to him.

"Thank you, very good," she replied.

Her face expressed weariness, lacked that spark of animation which was generally hovering now in her eyes, now in her smile; but, for a single instant, at the sight of Vronsky, something flashed into her eyes, and, notwithstanding the fact that the fire instantly died away, he was overjoyed even at this. She raised her eyes to her husband, to see whether he knew Vronsky. Alekseï Aleksandrovitch looked at him with displeasure, vaguely remembering who he was. Vronsky's calm self-assurance struck upon Alekseï Aleksandrovitch's cool superciliousness as a scythe strikes a rock.

"Count Vronsky," said Anna.

"Ah! We have met before, it seems to me," said Alekseï Aleksandrovitch with indifference, extending his hand. "Went with the mother, and came home with the son," said he, speaking with precision, as if his words were worth a ruble apiece. "I presume you are returning from a furlough?" And without waiting for an answer, he turned to his wife, in his ironical tone, "Did they shed many tears in Moscow on your leaving them?"

By thus addressing his wife he intended to give Vronsky to understand that he desired to be left alone, and again bowing to him he touched his hat; but Vronsky had one more word to say to Anna.

"I hope to have the honor of calling on you," said he.

Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, with weary eyes, looked at Vronsky.

"Very happy," he said coldly; "we receive on Mondays."

Then, leaving Vronsky entirely, he said to his wife, still in a jesting tone:—

"And how fortunate that I happened to have a spare