1 Yes, there was nothing else in the dream, he said to himself.
2 Often as she had dreamed of it, she could never think of anything.
3 And Vronsky, remembering his dream, felt the same terror filling his soul.
4 At every step he found his former dreams disappointed, and new, unexpected surprises of happiness.
5 While waiting for his father, Seryozha sat at the table playing with a penknife, and fell to dreaming.
6 This was the very thing she had been dreaming of, but now learning that it was possible, she was horrified.
7 He rang up his servant, dressed in haste, and went out onto the steps, completely forgetting the dream and only worried at being late.
8 But these ideas, once of such importance in his eyes, seemed to come into his brain as in a dream, and had now not the slightest interest for him.
9 He gazed at the cross, then at the stars, drank in the fresh freezing air that flowed evenly into the room, and followed as though in a dream the images and memories that rose in his imagination.
10 Seryozha fell to dreaming, gazing up at the face of the porter, which he had thoroughly studied in every detail, especially the chin that hung down between the gray whiskers, never seen by anyone but Seryozha, who saw him only from below.
11 That day, more intensely than ever, Seryozha felt a rush of love for her, and now, waiting for his father, he forgot everything, and cut all round the edge of the table with his penknife, staring straight before him with sparkling eyes and dreaming of her.
12 Levin felt more and more that all his ideas of marriage, all his dreams of how he would order his life, were mere childishness, and that it was something he had not understood hitherto, and now understood less than ever, though it was being performed upon him.