"Now turn me over on the left side and go to bed," he said.

No one could make out what he said but Kitty; she alone

understood. She understood because she was all the while

mentally keeping watch on what he needed.

"On the other side," she said to her husband, "he always sleeps

on that side. Turn him over, it's so disagreeable calling the

servants. I'm not strong enough. Can you?" she said to Marya

Nikolaevna.

"I'm afraid not," answered Marya Nikolaevna.

Terrible as it was to Levin to put his arms round that terrible

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body, to take hold of that under the quilt, of which he preferred

to know nothing, under his wife's influence he made his resolute

face that she knew so well, and putting his arms into the bed

took hold of the body, but in spite of his own strength he was

struck by the strange heaviness of those powerless limbs. While

he was turning him over, conscious of the huge emaciated arm

about his neck, Kitty swiftly and noiselessly turned the pillow,

beat it up and settled in it the sick man's head, smoothing back

his hair, which was sticking again to his moist brow.

The sick man kept his brother's hand in his own. Levin felt that

he meant to do something with his hand and was pulling it

somewhere. Levin yielded with a sinking heart: yes, he drew it

to his mouth and kissed it. Levin, shaking with sobs and unable

to articulate a word, went out of the room.




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