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She gave him her hand, and with her rapid, springy step she

passed by the porter and vanished into the carriage.

Her glance, the touch of her hand, set him aflame. He kissed the

palm of his hand where she had touched it, and went home, happy

in the sense that he had got nearer to the attainment of his aims

that evening than during the last two months.

Chapter 8

Alexey Alexandrovitch had seen nothing striking or improper in

the fact that his wife was sitting with Vronsky at a table apart,

in eager conversation with him about something. But he noticed

that to the rest of the party this appeared something striking

and improper, and for that reason it seemed to him too to be

improper. He made up his mind that he must speak of it to his

wife.