This shrewd man's flattering words, the naive, childlike affection shown her by Liza Merkalova, and all the social atmosphere she was used to,-- it was all so easy, and what was in store for her was so difficult, that she was for a minute in uncertainty whether to remain, whether to put off a little longer the painful moment of explanation.
But remembering what was in store for her alone at home, if she did not come to some decision, remembering that gesture--terrible even in memory--when she had clutched her hair in both hands--she said good-bye and went away.
In spite of Vronsky's apparently frivolous life in society, he was a man who hated irregularity.