"Tomorrow, then? Do, please, let us go," said Vassenka, sitting

down on a chair, and again crossing his leg as his habit was.

Levin's jealousy went further still. Already he saw himself a

deceived husband, looked upon by his wife and her lover as simply

necessary to provide them with the conveniences and pleasures of

life.... But in spite of that he made polite and hospitable

inquiries of Vassenka about his shooting, his gun, and his boots,

and agreed to go shooting next day.

Happily for Levin, the old princess cut short his agonies by

getting up herself and advising Kitty to go to bed. But even at

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this point Levin could not escape another agony. As he said

good-night to his hostess, Vassenka would again have kissed her

hand, but Kitty, reddening, drew back her hand and said with a

naïve bluntness, for which the old princess scolded her

afterwards: "We don't like that fashion."

In Levin's eyes she was to blame for having allowed such

relations to arise, and still more to blame for showing so

awkwardly that she did not like them.

"Why, how can one want to go to bed!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,

who, after drinking several glasses of wine at supper, was now in

his most charming and sentimental humor. "Look, Kitty," he said,

pointing to the moon, which had just risen behind the lime trees

--"how exquisite! Veslovsky, this is the time for a serenade.

You know, he has a splendid voice; we practiced songs together

along the road. He has brought some lovely songs with him, two

new ones. Varvara Andreevna and he must sing some duets."

When the party had broken up, Stepan Arkadyevitch walked a long

while about the avenue with Veslovsky; their voices could be

heard singing one of the new songs.

Levin hearing these voices sat scowling in an easy-chair in his

wife's bedroom, and maintained an obstinate silence when she

asked him what was wrong. But when at last with a timid glance

she hazarded the question: "Was there perhaps something you

disliked about Veslovsky?"--it all burst out, and he told her

all. He was humiliated himself at what he was saying, and that

exasperated him all the more.

He stood facing her with his eyes glittering menacingly under his

scowling brows, and he squeezed his strong arms across his chest,

as though he were straining every nerve to hold himself in. The

expression of his face would have been grim, and even cruel, if

it had not at the same time had a look of suffering which touched

her. His jaws were twitching, and his voice kept breaking.




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