"No, I'm not coming," answered Levin.
"Surely that's not a matter of principle too," said Stepan
Arkadyevitch, smiling, as he felt about in the dark for his cap.
"It's not a matter of principle, but why should I go?"
"But do you know you are preparing trouble for yourself," said
Stepan Arkadyevitch, finding his cap and getting up.
"How so?"
"Do you suppose I don't see the line you've taken up with your
wife? I heard how it's a question of the greatest consequence,
whether or not you're to be away for a couple of days' shooting.
That's all very well as an idyllic episode, but for your whole
life that won't answer. A man must be independent; he has his
masculine interests. A man has to be manly," said Oblonsky,
opening the door.
"In what way? To go running after servant girls?" said Levin.
"Why not, if it amuses him? _Ça ne tire pas a consequence_. It
won't do my wife any harm, and it'll amuse me. The great thing
is to respect the sanctity of the home. There should be nothing
in the home. But don't tie your own hands."
"Perhaps so," said Levin dryly, and he turned on his side.
"Tomorrow, early, I want to go shooting, and I won't wake anyone,
and shall set off at daybreak."
"_Messieurs, venez vite!_" they heard the voice of Veslovsky coming
back. "_Charmante!_ I've made such a discovery. _Charmante!_ a
perfect Gretchen, and I've already made friends with her.
Really, exceedingly pretty," he declared in a tone of approval,
as though she had been made pretty entirely on his account, and
he was expressing his satisfaction with the entertainment that
had been provided for him.
Levin pretended to be asleep, while Oblonsky, putting on his
slippers, and lighting a cigar, walked out of the barn, and soon
their voices were lost.
For a long while Levin could not get to sleep. He heard the
horses munching hay, then he heard the peasant and his elder boy
getting ready for the night, and going off for the night watch
with the beasts, then he heard the soldier arranging his bed on
the other side of the barn, with his nephew, the younger son of
their peasant host. He heard the boy in his shrill little voice
telling his uncle what he thought about the dogs, who seemed to
him huge and terrible creatures, and asking what the dogs were
going to hunt next day, and the soldier in a husky, sleepy voice,
telling him the sportsmen were going in the morning to the marsh,
and would shoot with their guns; and then, to check the boy's
questions, he said, "Go to sleep, Vaska; go to sleep, or you'll
catch it," and soon after he began snoring himself, and
everything was still. He could only hear the snort of the
horses, and the guttural cry of a snipe.