"Make haste," she said.

"Oh, don't you come," said the sick man angrily. "I'll do it my

myself...."

"What say?" queried Marya Nikolaevna. But Kitty heard and saw he

was ashamed and uncomfortable at being naked before her.

"I'm not looking, I'm not looking!" she said, putting the arm in.

"Marya Nikolaevna, you come this side, you do it," she added.

"Please go for me, there's a little bottle in my small bag," she

said, turning to her husband, "you know, in the side pocket;

bring it, please, and meanwhile they'll finish clearing up here."

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Returning with the bottle, Levin found the sick man settled

comfortably and everything about him completely changed. The

heavy smell was replaced by the smell of aromatic vinegar, which

Kitty with pouting lips and puffed-out, rosy cheeks was squirting

through a little pipe. There was no dust visible anywhere, a rug

was laid by the bedside. On the table stood medicine bottles and

decanters tidily arranged, and the linen needed was folded up

there, and Kitty's _broderie anglaise_. On the other table by the

patient's bed there were candles and drink and powders. The sick

man himself, washed and combed, lay in clean sheets on high

raised pillows, in a clean night-shirt with a white collar about

his astoundingly thin neck, and with a new expression of hope

looked fixedly at Kitty.

The doctor brought by Levin, and found by him at the club, was

not the one who had been attending Nikolay Levin, as the patient

was dissatisfied with him. The new doctor took up a stethoscope

and sounded the patient, shook his head, prescribed medicine, and

with extreme minuteness explained first how to take the medicine

and then what diet was to be kept to. He advised eggs, raw or

hardly cooked, and seltzer water, with warm milk at a certain

temperature. When the doctor had gone away the sick man said

something to his brother, of which Levin could distinguish only

the last words: "Your Katya." By the expression with which he

gazed at her, Levin saw that he was praising her. He called

indeed to Katya, as he called her.

"I'm much better already," he said. "Why, with you I should have

got well long ago. How nice it is!" he took her hand and drew it

towards his lips, but as though afraid she would dislike it he

changed his mind, let it go, and only stroked it. Kitty took his

hand in both hers and pressed it.




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