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‘Oho! I see you’re in a new phase again, a conservative one,’ said Stepan Arkadyich. ‘However, of that later.’

‘Yes, later. But I had to see you,’ Levin said, looking with hatred at Grinevich’s hand.

Stepan Arkadyich smiled almost imperceptibly.

‘Didn’t you say you’d never put on European clothes again?’ he said, looking over his new clothes, obviously from a French tailor. ‘So! I see - a new phase.’

Levin suddenly blushed, but not as grown-up people blush - slightly, unaware of it themselves - but as boys do, feeling that their bashfulness makes them ridiculous, becoming ashamed as a result, and blushing even more, almost to the point of tears. And it was so strange to see that intelligent, manly face in such a childish state that Oblonsky stopped looking at him.

‘So where shall we see each other? I need very, very much to have a talk with you,’ said Levin.

Oblonsky appeared to reflect.

‘I’ll tell you what: let’s go to Gourin’s for lunch and talk there. I’m free until three.’

‘No,’ Levin replied after a moment’s thought, ‘I still have to go somewhere.’

‘Well, all right, then let’s dine together.’

‘Dine? But I have nothing special to say or ask, just a couple of words, and we can have a chat later.’

‘Then tell me the couple of words now, and we can discuss things over dinner.’

‘The couple of words are these ...’ said Levin. ‘Anyway, it’s nothing special.’

His face suddenly acquired an angry expression, which came from the effort to overcome his bashfulness.

‘What are the Shcherbatskys doing? The same as ever?’ he said.

Stepan Arkadyich, who had known for a long time that Levin was in love with his sister-in-law Kitty, smiled almost imperceptibly and his eyes shone merrily.

‘A couple of words, you said, but I can’t answer in a couple of words, because ... Excuse me a moment...’

The secretary came in with familiar deference and a certain modest awareness, common to all secretaries, of his superiority to his chief in the knowledge of business, approached Oblonsky with some papers and, in the guise of a question, began explaining some difficulty. Stepan Arkadyich, without listening to the end, placed his hand benignly on the secretary’s sleeve.

‘No, just do as I told you,’ he said, softening the remark with a smile, and after briefly explaining the matter as he understood it, he pushed the papers aside, saying: ‘Do it that way, please, Zakhar Nikitich.’

The abashed secretary withdrew. Levin, who during this conference with the secretary had recovered completely from his embarrassment, stood with both elbows resting on the chair back, a look of mocking attention on his face.

‘I don’t understand, I don’t understand,’ he said.

‘What don’t you understand?’ said Oblonsky, with the same cheerful smile, taking out a cigarette. He expected some strange escapade from Levin.

‘I don’t understand what you do,’ Levin said with a shrug. ‘How can you do it seriously?’

‘Why not?’

‘Why, because there’s nothing to do.’

‘That’s what you think, but we’re buried in work.’

‘Paperwork. Ah, well, you do have a gift for that,’ Levin added.

‘That is, you think I’m lacking in something?’

‘Maybe so,’ said Levin. ‘But all the same I admire your grandeur and am proud that my friend is such a great man. However, you didn’t answer my question,’ he added, with a desperate effort to look straight into Oblonsky’s eyes.

‘Well, all right, all right. Wait a while, and you’ll come round to the same thing. It’s all right so long as you’ve got eight thousand acres in the Karazin district, and those muscles, and the freshness of a twelve-year-old girl- but you’ll join us some day. Yes, as for what you asked about: nothing’s changed, but it’s too bad you haven’t been there for so long.’

‘Why?’ Levin asked timorously.

‘No, nothing,’ Oblonsky replied. ‘We’ll talk. But why in fact did you come?’

‘Oh, we’ll talk about that later as well,’ Levin said, again blushing to the ears.

‘Well, all right. Understood,’ said Stepan Arkadyich. ‘You see, I’d invite