On the way home Levin asked all details of Kitty's illness and

the Shtcherbatskys' plans, and though he would have been ashamed

to admit it, he was pleased at what he heard. He was pleased

that there was still hope, and still more pleased that she should

be suffering who had made him suffer so much. But when Stepan

Arkadyevitch began to speak of the causes of Kitty's illness, and

mentioned Vronsky's name, Levin cut him short.

"I have no right whatever to know family matters, and, to tell

the truth, no interest in them either."

Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled hardly perceptibly, catching the

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instantaneous change he knew so well in Levin's face, which had

become as gloomy as it had been bright a minute before.

"Have you quite settled about the forest with Ryabinin?" asked

Levin.

"Yes, it's settled. The price is magnificent; thirty-eight

thousand. Eight straight away, and the rest in six years. I've

been bothering about it for ever so long. No one would give

more."

"Then you've as good as given away your forest for nothing," said

Levin gloomily.

"How do you mean for nothing?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with a

good-humored smile, knowing that nothing would be right in

Levin's eyes now.

"Because the forest is worth at least a hundred and fifty roubles

the acre," answered Levin.

"Oh, these farmers!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch playfully. "Your

tone of contempt for us poor townsfolk!... But when it comes to

business, we do it better than anyone. I assure you I have

reckoned it all out," he said, "and the forest is fetching a very

good price--so much so that I'm afraid of this fellow's crying

off, in fact. You know it's not 'timber,'" said Stepan

Arkadyevitch, hoping by this distinction to convince Levin

completely of the unfairness of his doubts. "And it won't run to

more than twenty-five yards of fagots per acre, and he's giving

me at the rate of seventy roubles the acre."

Levin smiled contemptuously. "I know," he thought, "that fashion

not only in him, but in all city people, who, after being twice

in ten years in the country, pick up two or three phrases and use

them in season and out of season, firmly persuaded that they know

all about it. '_Timber, run to so many yards the acre._' He says

those words without understanding them himself."

"I wouldn't attempt to teach you what you write about in your

office," said he, "and if need arose, I should come to you to ask

about it. But you're so positive you know all the lore of the

forest. It's difficult. Have you counted the trees?"




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