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The mere notion of this so exasperated Alexey Alexandrovitch,

that directly it rose to his mind he groaned with inward agony,

and got up and changed his place in the carriage, and for a long

while after, he sat with scowling brows, wrapping his numbed and

bony legs in the fleecy rug.

"Apart from formal divorce, One might still do like Karibanov,

Paskudin, and that good fellow Dram-that is, separate from one's

wife," he went on thinking, when he had regained his composure.

But this step too presented the same drawback of public scandal

as a divorce, and what was more, a separation, quite as much as a

regular divorce, flung his wife into the arms of Vronsky. "No,

it's out of the question, out of the question!" he said again,

twisting his rug about him again. "I cannot be unhappy, but

neither she nor he ought to be happy."