opera glass again in that direction, he
noticed that Princess Varvara was particularly red, and kept
laughing unnaturally and looking round at the next box. Anna,
folding her fan and tapping it on the red velvet, was gazing away
and did not see, and obviously did not wish to see, what was
taking place in the next box. Yashvin's face wore the expression
which was common when he was losing at cards. Scowling, he
sucked the left end of his mustache further and further into his
mouth, and cast sidelong glances at the next box.

In that box on the left were the Kartasovs. Vronsky knew them,
and knew that Anna was acquainted with them. Madame Kartasova, a
thin little woman, was standing up in her box, and, her back
turned upon Anna, she was putting on a mantle that her husband
was holding for her. Her face was pale and angry, and she was
talking excitedly. Kartasov, a fat, bald man, was continually
looking round at Anna, while he attempted to soothe his wife.
When the wife had gone out, the husband lingered a long while,
and tried to catch Anna's eye, obviously anxious to bow to her.
But Anna, with unmistakable intention, avoided noticing him, and
talked to Yashvin, whose cropped head was bent down to her.
Kartasov went out without making his salutation, and the box was
left empty.

Vronsky could not understand exactly what had passed between the
Kartasovs and Anna, but he saw that something humiliating for
Anna had happened. He knew this both from what he had seen, and
most of all from the face of Anna, who, he could see, was taxing
every nerve to carry through the part she had taken up. And in
maintaining this attitude of external composure she was
completely successful. Anyone who did not know her and her
circle, who had not heard all the utterances of the women
expressive of commiseration, indignation, and amazement, that she
should show herself in society, and show herself so conspicuously
with her lace and her beauty, would have admired the serenity and
loveliness of this woman without a suspicion that she was
undergoing the sensations of a man in the stocks.

Knowing that something had happened, but not knowing precisely
what, Vronsky felt a thrill of agonizing anxiety, and hoping to
find out something, he went towards his brother's box. Purposely
choosing the way round furthest from Anna's box, he jostled as he
came out against the colonel of his old regiment talking to two
acquaintances. Vronsky he