صفحة 882 من 2288

It was six o'clock already, and so, in order to be there quickly,

and at the same time not to drive with his own horses, known to

everyone, Vronsky got into Yashvin's hired fly, and told the

driver to drive as quickly as possible. It was a roomy,

old-fashioned fly, with seats for four. He sat in one corner,

stretched his legs out on the front seat, and sank into

meditation.

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. He dropped his legs,

crossed one leg over the other knee, and taking it in his hand,

felt the springy muscle of the calf, where it had been grazed the

day before by his fall, and leaning back he drew several deep

breaths.