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And feeling satisfied that she was alone, and wanting to take her

by surprise, since he had not promised to be there today, and she

would certainly not expect him to come before the races, he

walked, holding his sword and stepping cautiously over the sandy

path, bordered with flowers, to the terrace that looked out upon

the garden. Vronsky forgot now all that he had thought on the way

of the hardships and difficulties of their position. He thought

of nothing but that he would see her directly, not in

imagination, but living, all of her, as she was in reality. He

was just going in, stepping on his whole foot so as not to creak,

up the worn steps of the terrace, when he suddenly remembered

what he always forgot, and what caused the most torturing side of

his relations with her, her son with his questioning-hostile, as

he fancied-eyes.