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Her face looked weary, and there was not that play of eagerness

in it, peeping out in her smile and her eyes; but for a single

instant, as she glanced at him, there was a flash of something in

her eyes, and although the flash died away at once, he was happy

for that moment. She glanced at her husband to find out whether

he knew Vronsky. Alexey Alexandrovitch looked at Vronsky with

displeasure, vaguely recalling who this was. Vronsky's composure

and self-confidence here struck, like a scythe against a stone,

upon the cold self-confidence of Alexey Alexandrovitch.

"Count Vronsky," said Anna.

"Ah! We are acquainted, I believe," said Alexey Alexandrovitch

indifferently, giving his hand.

"You set off with the mother and you return with the son," he

said, articulating each syllable, as though each were a separate

favor he was bestowing.