1 Anna said nothing, and keeping her opera glass up, gazed always at the same spot.
2 Vronsky, listening with one ear, moved his opera glass from the stalls and scanned the boxes.
3 Every eye, every opera glass, was turned on the brightly colored group of riders at the moment they were in line to start.
4 "Yes, it was like going back home when I put on a black coat," answered Vronsky, smiling and slowly taking out his opera glass.
5 She laid down the opera glass, and would have moved away, but at that moment an officer galloped up and made some announcement to the Tsar.
6 "Excuse me," he added, taking an opera glass out of her hand, and proceeding to scrutinize, over her bare shoulder, the row of boxes facing them.
7 When Vronsky turned the opera glass again in that direction, he noticed that Princess Varvara was particularly red, and kept laughing unnaturally and looking round at the next box.
8 Without answering her husband, Anna lifted her opera glass and gazed towards the place where Vronsky had fallen; but it was so far off, and there was such a crowd of people about it, that she could make out nothing.
9 But the position of a man pursuing a married woman, and, regardless of everything, staking his life on drawing her into adultery, has something fine and grand about it, and can never be ridiculous; and so it was with a proud and gay smile under his mustaches that he lowered the opera glass and looked at his cousin.