At four o'clock, conscious of his throbbing heart, Levin stepped

out of a hired sledge at the Zoological Gardens, and turned along

the path to the frozen mounds and the skating ground, knowing

that he would certainly find her there, as he had seen the

Shtcherbatskys' carriage at the entrance.

It was a bright, frosty day. Rows of carriages, sledges,

drivers, and policemen were standing in the approach. Crowds of

well-dressed people, with hats bright in the sun, swarmed about

the entrance and along the well-swept little paths between the

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little houses adorned with carving in the Russian style. The old

curly birches of the gardens, all their twigs laden with snow,

looked as though freshly decked in sacred vestments.

He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept

saying to himself--"You mustn't be excited, you must be calm.

What's the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet,

stupid," he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose

himself, the more breathless he found himself. An acquaintance

met him and called him by his name, but Levin did not even

recognize him. He went towards the mounds, whence came the clank

of the chains of sledges as they slipped down or were dragged up,

the rumble of the sliding sledges, and the sounds of merry

voices. He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay

open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he

knew her.

He knew she was there by the rapture and the terror that seized

on his heart. She was standing talking to a lady at the opposite

end of the ground. There was apparently nothing striking either

in her dress or her attitude. But for Levin she was as easy to

find in that crowd as a rose among nettles. Everything was made

bright by her. She was the smile that shed light on all round

her. "Is it possible I can go over there on the ice, go up to

her?" he thought. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy

shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was

almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to

make an effort to master himself, and to remind himself that

people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he too might

come there to skate. He walked down, for a long while avoiding

looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the

sun, without looking.

On that day of the week and at that time of day people of one

set, all acquainted with one another, used to meet on the ice.

There were crack skaters there, showing off their skill, and

learners clinging to chairs with timid, awkward movements, boys,

and elderly people skating with hygienic motives. They seemed to

Levin an elect band of blissful beings because they were here,

near her. All the skaters, it seemed, with perfect

self-possession, skated towards her, skated by her, even spoke to

her, and were happy, quite apart from her, enjoying the capital

ice and the fine weather.




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