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They haven't an idea of what happiness is; they don't know that

without our love, for us there is neither happiness nor

unhappiness-no life at all," he thought.

He was angry with all of them for their interference just because

he felt in his soul that they, all these people, were right. He

felt that the love that bound him to Anna was not a momentary

impulse, which would pass, as worldly intrigues do pass, leaving

no other traces in the life of either but pleasant or unpleasant

memories. He felt all the torture of his own and her position,

all the difficulty there was for them, conspicuous as they were

in the eye of all the world, in concealing their love, in lying

and deceiving; and in lying, deceiving, feigning, and continually

thinking of others, when the passion that united them was so

intense that they were both oblivious of everything else but

their love.