Anna Karenina

Vronsky and Anna spend the whole summer and part of winter in the country, taking no steps toward divorce. They understand they won't go anywhere, but both feel they can't stand this existence much longer. Their life appears ideal—fullest abundance, a child, both occupied. Anna reads extensively and studies everything of interest to Vronsky: agriculture, architecture, horse-breeding. He's amazed at her knowledge. The hospital interests her. But her chief thought: how far is she dear to Vronsky? How can she make up for all he's given up? Vronsky appreciates this desire to please and serve him, but grows weary of "the loving snares in which she tried to hold him fast." He has a growing desire to be free, to avoid scenes every time he wants to go to town. Otherwise he's perfectly satisfied. His role as wealthy landowner suits him. His estate management succeeds—he's increasing his substance, managing income shrewdly, keeping to simple methods. October brings provincial elections in Kashinsky province. Great preparations being made. Vronsky promised Sviazhsky he'd attend. The day before, there's almost a quarrel over this expedition. With hard, cold expression, Vronsky informs Anna of his departure as never before. To his surprise, Anna accepts with great composure, merely asking when he'll return. He looks intently—at a loss. She smiles. He knows this way she withdraws into herself, determining something without revealing her plans. He's afraid but anxious to avoid a scene. "I hope you won't be dull?" "I hope not," Anna says. "I got books from Gautier's. No, I shan't be dull." He leaves without appealing for candid explanation—first time since their intimacy began. From one view this troubles him, but he feels it's better. "I can give up anything for her, but not my masculine independence," he thinks.