the pleasure of it.”

“Well, but suppose you were married,” said Anna, “how would it be for your wife?”

Yashvin laughed.

“That’s why I’m not married, and never mean to be.”

“And Helsingfors?” said Vronsky, entering into the conversation and glancing at Anna’s smiling face. Meeting his eyes, Anna’s face instantly took a coldly severe expression as though she were saying to him: “It’s not forgotten. It’s all the same.”

“Were you really in love?” she said to Yashvin.

“Oh heavens! ever so many times! But you see, some men can play but only so that they can always lay down their cards when the hour of a