These fits of jealousy, which of late had been more and more frequent with her, horrified him, and however much he tried to disguise the fact, made him feel cold to her, although he knew the cause of her jealousy was her love for him.

How often he had told himself that her love was happiness; and now she loved him as a woman can love when love has outweighed for her all the good things of life--and he was much further from happiness than when he had followed her from Moscow.

Then he had thought himself unhappy, but happiness was before him; now he felt that the best happiness was already left behind.

She was utterly unlike what she had been when he first saw her.