Emma Watson Pussy
Anna Karenina 207


Banned Celebs






Emma Watson Pussy



Books:

Anna Karenina

War And Peace




house. But no matter; I cant hide myself," he thought, and with that manner peculiar to him from childhood, as of a man who has nothing to be ashamed of, Vronsky got out of his sledge and went to the door. The door opened, and the hall porter with a rug on his arm called the carriage. Vronsky, though he did not usually notice details, noticed at this moment the amazed expression with which the porter glanced at him. In the very doorway Vronsky almost ran up against Alexey Alexandrovitch. The gas jet threw its full light on the bloodless, sunken face under the black hat and on the white cravat, brilliant against the beaver of the coat. Karenins fixed, dull eyes were fastened upon Vronskys face. Vronsky bowed, and Alexey Alexandrovitch, chewing his lips, lifted his hand to his hat and went on. Vronsky saw him without looking round get into the carriage, pick up the rug and the opera-glass at the window and disappear. Vronsky went into the hall. His brows were scowling, and his eyes gleamed with a proud and angry light in them. "What a position!" he thought. "If he would fight, would stand up for his honor, I could act, could express my feelings; but this weakness or baseness.... He puts me in the position of playing false, which I never meant and never mean to do." Vronskys ideas had changed since the day of his conversation with Anna in the Vrede garden. Unconsciously yielding to the weakness of Anna--who had surrendered herself up to him utterly, and simply looked to him to decide her fate, ready to submit to anything--he had long ceased to think that their tie might end as he had thought then. His ambitious plans had retreated into the background again, and feeling that he had got out of that circle of activity in which everything was definite, he had given himself entirely to his passion, and that passion was binding him more and more closely to her. He was still in the hall when he caught the sound of her retreating footsteps. He knew she had been expecting him, had listened for him, and was now going back to the drawing room. "No," she cried, on seeing him, and at the first sound of her voice the tears came into her eyes. "No; if things are to go on like this, the end will come much, much too soon." "What is it, dear one?" "What? Ive been waiting in agony for an hour, two hours...No, I wont...I cant quarrel with you. Of course you couldnt come. No, I wont." She laid her two hands on his shoulders, and looked a long while at him with a profound, passionate, and at the same time searching look. She was studying his face to make up for the time she had not seen him. She was, every time she saw him, making the picture of him in her imagination (incomparably superior, impossible in reality) fit with him as he really was. Chapter 3 "You met him?" she asked, when they had sat down at the table in the lamplight. "Youre punished, you see, for being late." "Yes; but how was it? Wasnt he to be at the council?" "He had been and come back, and was going out somewhere again. But thats no matter. Dont talk about it. Where have you been? With the prince still?" She knew every detail of his existence. He was going to say that he had been up all night and had dropped asleep, but looking at her thrilled and rapturous face, he was ashamed. And he said he had had to go to report on the princes departure. "But its over now? He is gone?" "Thank God its over! You wouldnt believe how insufferable its been for me." "Why so? Isnt it the life all of you, all young men, always lead?" she said, knitting her brows; and taking up the crochet work that was lying on the table, she began drawing the hook out of it, without looking at Vronsky. "I gave that life up long ago," said he, wondering at the change in her face, and trying to divine its meaning. "And I confess," he said, with a smile, showing his thick, white teeth, "this week Ive been, as it were, looking at myself in a glass, seeing that life, and I didnt like

Anna Karenina page 206        Anna Karenina page 208