Anna Karenina (Penguin) - Leo Tolstoy [103]
Indeed, Levin was out of sorts and, in spite of all his desire to be gentle and amiable with his dear guest, he could not master himself. The intoxication of the news that Kitty was not married had begun to affect him.
Kitty was unmarried and ill, ill from love for a man who had scorned her. This insult seemed to fall upon him. Vronsky had scorned her, and she had scorned him, Levin. Consequently, Vronsky had the right to despise Levin and was therefore his enemy. But Levin did not think all that. He vaguely felt that there was something insulting to him in it, and now was not angry at what had upset him but was finding fault with everything he came across. The stupid sale of the wood, the swindle Oblonsky had fallen for, which had taken place in his house, annoyed him.
‘Well, so it’s concluded?’ he said, meeting Stepan Arkadyich upstairs. ‘Want to have supper?’
‘Yes, I won’t refuse. What an appetite I have in the country, it’s a wonder! Why didn’t you offer Ryabinin a bite to eat?’
‘Ah, devil take him!’
‘How you treat him, though!’ said Oblonsky. ‘You didn’t shake hands with him. Why not shake hands with him?’
‘Because I don’t shake hands with my footman, and my footman is a hundred times better.’
‘What a reactionary you are, though! What about the merging of the classes?’ said Oblonsky.
‘Whoever likes merging is welcome to it. I find it disgusting.’
‘I see, you’re decidedly a reactionary.’
‘Really, I’ve never thought about what I am. I’m Konstantin Levin, nothing more.’
‘And a Konstantin Levin who is badly out of sorts,’ said Stepan Arkadyich, smiling.
‘Yes, I’m out of sorts, and do you know why? Because of - forgive me — your stupid sale ...’
Stepan Arkadyich winced good-naturedly, like a man hurt and upset without cause.
‘Well, come now!’ he said. ‘When did it ever happen that somebody sold something without being told right after the sale: “It was worth a lot more”? But while it’s for sale, no one offers ... No, I see you have a bone to pick with this unfortunate Ryabinin.’
‘Maybe I do. And do you know why? You’ll say again that I’m a reactionary, or some other dreadful word like that; but all the same it’s vexing and upsetting for me to see on all sides this impoverishment of the nobility, to which I belong and, despite the merging of the classes, am glad to belong. And impoverishment not owing to luxury - that would be nothing. To live with largesse is a nobleman’s business, which only noblemen know how to do. Now muzhiks are buying up the land around us. That doesn’t upset me - the squire does nothing, the muzhik works and pushes out the idle man. It ought to be so. And I’m very glad for the muzhik. But it upsets me to see this impoverishment as a result of - I don’t know what to call it - innocence. Here a Polish tenant buys a beautiful estate at half price from a lady who lives in Nice. Here land worth ten roubles an acre is leased to a merchant for one. Here you gave that cheat a gift of thirty thousand for no reason at all.’
‘What, then? Count every tree?’
‘Certainly count them. You didn’t count them, but Ryabinin did. Ryabinin’s children will have the means to live and be educated, and yours may not!’
‘Well, excuse me, but there’s something petty in this counting. We have our occupations, they have theirs, and they need profits. Well, anyhow, the deal’s concluded, and there’s an end to it. And here are the fried eggs, my favourite way of doing them. And Agafya Mikhailovna will give us that wonderful herb liqueur ...’
Stepan Arkadyich sat down at the table and began joking with Agafya Mikhailovna, assuring her that he had not eaten such a dinner or supper for a long time.
‘You praise it at least,’ said Agafya Mikhailovna, ‘but Konstantin Dmitrich, whatever you serve him, even a crust of bread, he just eats it and walks out.’
Hard as Levin tried to master himself, he was gloomy and silent. He had to ask Stepan Arkadyich one question, but he could not resolve to ask it and could not find either