‘Would you like to get out?’ asked Annushka.
‘Yes, I’d like some fresh air. It’s very hot in here.’
And she opened the door. The blizzard and the wind hurled themselves at her and jostled with her for the door. And she found this enjoyable too. She opened the door and stepped outside. As if it had been waiting expressly for her, the wind whistled gleefully and tried to snatch her and carry her off, but she took hold of the cold doorpost with a strong hand, stepped down on to the platform, holding on to her dress, and went behind the carriage. The wind had been strong on the steps, but on the platform behind the carriages it was calm. She took pleasure in inhaling the snowy, frosty air deep into her chest, and as she stood beside the carriage she surveyed the platform and the lit-up station.
30
THE terrible storm was tearing and whistling around the corner of the station between the wheels of the carriages and along the posts. Carriages, posts, people—everything visible was covered with snow on one side and being covered more and more. The storm would die down for a moment, but then it would blow up again in such gusts it seemed impossible to withstand it. Meanwhile there were some people running about, talking cheerfully, making the boards of the platform creak, and endlessly opening and closing the main doors. The hunched shadow of a man slipped past beneath her feet, and there were sounds of a hammer striking iron. ‘Let’s have the telegram!’ an angry voice rang out of the stormy darkness on the other side. ‘This way, please! No. 28!’ shouted various other voices, and people ran past, all wrapped-up and covered in snow. Two gentlemen with cigarettes burning in their mouths walked past her. She took another breath in order to get her fill of fresh air, and had already taken her hand out of her muff in order to grasp the post and proceed into the carriage when another man in a military greatcoat just beside her blocked out the flickering light of the lamp. She looked round and immediately recognized Vronsky’s face. Putting his hand to the peak of his cap, he bowed to her and asked if there was anything she needed, and could he be of service to her? She gazed at him intently for quite a long time without replying, and despite the shadow in which he stood, she saw, or imagined she saw, the expression both on his face and in his eyes. It was once again that same expression of reverent admiration which had so affected her the previous evening. She had told herself more than once these last days and just now, that to her Vronsky was simply one of the hundreds of endlessly indistinguishable young men who were to be encountered everywhere, and that she would never allow herself even to think about him; but now, from the first moment she set eyes on him, she was overcome with a feeling of jubilant pride. She did not need to ask why he was there. She knew, just as surely as if he had told her, that he was there to be where she was.
‘I didn’t know you were travelling. Why are you travelling?’ she asked, lowering the hand which had been about to take hold of the post. Her face radiated irrepressible joy and excitement.
‘Why am I travelling?’ he replied, looking straight into her eyes. ‘You know that I am travelling to be where you are,’ he said. ‘I can’t do otherwise.’
And right at that moment, as if it had overcome some obstacle, the wind hurled down snow from the roof of the carriage and rattled a loose sheet of iron, while up in front, the locomotive’s low whistle started to wail mournfully and gloomily. The full horror of the snowstorm seemed even more splendid to her now. He had said precisely what her soul desired, but which she feared with her reason. She did not answer, and he saw a struggle in her face.
‘Forgive me if what I said displeased you,’ he said meekly.
He spoke courteously and respectfully, but so firmly and insistently that for a long time she could not say anything in reply.
‘What you are saying is wrong, and I must ask you, if you are a good man, to forget what you have said, as I will,’ she said finally.
‘I will never ever forget a single word or gesture of yours, nor can I …’
‘That’s enough, enough!’ she cried out, vainly trying to impart a severe expression to her face, which he was eagerly scrutinizing. And taking the cold post in her hand, she went up the steps and quickly stepped into the vestibule of the carriage. But she paused in this small vestibule while she went over in her mind what had happened. Without being able to remember what either of them had said, she understood through her feelings that this brief exchange had brought them terribly close; and she was both frightened and overjoyed by this. After standing there for a few seconds, she went into the compartment and sat down in her seat. That magical, tense state which had tormented her before had not only returned but had intensified, and had reached the point where she feared something too taut inside her might snap at any moment. She did not sleep all night. But there was nothing unpleasant or gloomy in the tension or the dreams which filled her imagination; on the contrary, there was something joyous, searing, and exciting. Towards morning Anna dozed off as she sat in her seat, and when she woke up it was already broad daylight and the train was approaching Petersburg. She was immediately inundated with thoughts of home, her husband, her son, and the concerns of the coming day and those to follow.