Page 377 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

Though Levin tried to control himself, he was gloomy
and silent. He wanted to put one question to Stepan
Arkadyevitch, but he could not bring himself to the point,
and could not find the words or the moment in which to

put it. Stepan Arkadyevitch had gone down to his room,
undressed, again washed, and attired in a nightshirt with
goffered frills, he had got into bed, but Levin still lingered
in his room, talking of various trifling matters, and not
daring to ask what he wanted to know.
‘How wonderfully they make this soap,’ he said gazing
at a piece of soap he was handling, which Agafea
Mihalovna had put ready for the visitor but Oblonsky had
not used. ‘Only look; why, it’s a work of art.’
‘Yes, everything’s brought to such a pitch of perfection
nowadays,’ said Stepan Arkadyevitch, with a moist and
blissful yawn. ‘The theater, for instance, and the
entertainments... a—a—a!’ he yawned. ‘The electric light
everywhere...a—a—a!’
‘Yes, the electric light,’ said Levin. ‘Yes. Oh, and
where’s Vronsky now?’ he asked suddenly, laying down
the soap.
‘Vronsky?’ said Stepan Arkadyevitch, checking his
yawn; ‘he’s in Petersburg. He left soon after you did, and
he’s not once been in Moscow since. And do you know,

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