Page 1643 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

in me? Not love so much as the satisfaction of vanity.’ She
remembered his words, the expression of his face, that
recalled an abject setter-dog, in the early days of their
connection. And everything now confirmed this. ‘Yes,

there was the triumph of success in him. Of course there
was love too, but the chief element was the pride of
success. He boasted of me. Now that’s over. There’s
nothing to be proud of. Not to be proud of, but to be
ashamed of. He has taken from me all he could, and now I
am no use to him. He is weary of me and is trying not to
be dishonorable in his behavior to me. He let that out
yesterday—he wants divorce and marriage so as to burn
his ships. He loves me, but how? The zest is gone, as the
English say. That fellow wants everyone to admire him
and is very much pleased with himself,’ she thought,
looking at a red-faced clerk, riding on a riding school
horse. ‘Yes, there’s not the same flavor about me for him
now. If I go away from him, at the bottom of his heart he
will be glad.’
This was not mere supposition, she saw it distinctly in
the piercing light, which revealed to her now the meaning
of life and human relations.
‘My love keeps growing more passionate and egoistic,
while his is waning and waning, and that’s why we’re

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