Page 764 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

whatever they said— not uttering the one thought that
filled their minds—was all falsehood. Never had Levin
been so glad when the evening was over and it was time
to go to bed. Never with any outside person, never on

any official visit had he been so unnatural and false as he
was that evening. And the consciousness of this
unnaturalness, and the remorse he felt at it, made him
even more unnatural. He wanted to weep over his dying,
dearly loved brother, and he had to listen and keep on
talking of how he meant to live.
As the house was damp, and only one bedroom had
been kept heated, Levin put his brother to sleep in his
own bedroom behind a screen.
His brother got into bed, and whether he slept or did
not sleep, tossed about like a sick man, coughed, and
when he could not get his throat clear, mumbled
something. Sometimes when his breathing was painful, he
said, ‘Oh, my God!’ Sometimes when he was choking he
muttered angrily, ‘Ah, the devil!’ Levin could not sleep for
a long while, hearing him. His thoughts were of the most
various, but the end of all his thoughts was the same—
death. Death, the inevitable end of all, for the first time
presented itself to him with irresistible force. And death,
which was here in this loved brother, groaning half asleep

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