"Why should you think that?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling at

his excitement.

"It seems so to me sometimes. That will be awful for me, and for

her too."

"Oh, well, anyway there's nothing awful in it for a girl. Every

girl's proud of an offer."

"Yes, every girl, but not she."

Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled. He so well knew that feeling of

Levin's, that for him all the girls in the world were divided

into two classes: one class--all the girls in the world except

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her, and those girls with all sorts of human weaknesses, and very

ordinary girls: the other class--she alone, having no weaknesses

of any sort and higher than all humanity.

"Stay, take some sauce," he said, holding back Levin's hand as it

pushed away the sauce.

Levin obediently helped himself to sauce, but would not let

Stepan Arkadyevitch go on with his dinner.

"No, stop a minute, stop a minute," he said. "You must

understand that it's a question of life and death for me. I have

never spoken to any one of this. And there's no one I could

speak of it to, except you. You know we're utterly unlike each

other, different tastes and views and everything; but I know

you're fond of me and understand me, and that's why I like you

awfully. But for God's sake, be quite straightforward with me."

"I tell you what I think," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling.

"But I'll say more: my wife is a wonderful woman..." Stepan

Arkadyevitch sighed, remembering his position with his wife, and,

after a moment's silence, resumed--"She has a gift of foreseeing

things. She sees right through people; but that's not all; she

knows what will come to pass, especially in the way of marriages.

She foretold, for instance, that Princess Shahovskaya would marry

Brenteln. No one would believe it, but it came to pass. And

she's on your side."

"How do you mean?"

"It's not only that she likes you--she says that Kitty is

certain to be your wife."

At these words Levin's face suddenly lighted up with a smile, a

smile not far from tears of emotion.

"She says that!" cried Levin. "I always said she was exquisite,

your wife. There, that's enough, enough said about it," he said,

getting up from his seat.

"All right, but do sit down."

But Levin could not sit down. He walked with his firm tread

twice up and down the little cage of a room, blinked his eyelids

that his tears might not fall, and only then sat down to the

table.




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