"Well, but whom are you attacking? I agree with you," said

Stepan Arkadyevitch, sincerely and genially; though he was aware

that in the class of those who could be bought for twopence

halfpenny Levin was reckoning him too. Levin's warmth gave him

genuine pleasure. "Whom are you attacking? Though a good deal

is not true that you say about Vronsky, but I won't talk about

that. I tell you straight out, if I were you, I should go back

with me to Moscow, and..."

"No; I don't know whether you know it or not, but I don't care.

And I tell you--I did make an offer and was rejected, and

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Katerina Alexandrovna is nothing now to me but a painful and

humiliating reminiscence."

"What ever for? What nonsense!"

"But we won't talk about it. Please forgive me, if I've been

nasty," said Levin. Now that he had opened his heart, he became

as he had been in the morning. "You're not angry with me, Stiva?

Please don't be angry," he said, and smiling, he took his hand.

"Of course not; not a bit, and no reason to be. I'm glad we've

spoken openly. And do you know, stand-shooting in the morning is

unusually good--why not go? I couldn't sleep the night anyway,

but I might go straight from shooting to the station."

"Capital."




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