"Delighted," said the veteran.

"I have the honor of knowing your brother, Sergey Ivanovitch,"

said Grinevitch, holding out his slender hand with its long

nails.

Levin frowned, shook hands coldly, and at once turned to

Oblonsky. Though he had a great respect for his half-brother, an

author well known to all Russia, he could not endure it when

people treated him not as Konstantin Levin, but as the brother of

the celebrated Koznishev.

"No, I am no longer a district councilor. I have quarreled with

them all, and don't go to the meetings any more," he said,

turning to Oblonsky.

"You've been quick about it!" said Oblonsky with a smile. "But

how? why?"

"It's a long story. I will tell you some time," said Levin, but

he began telling him at once. "Well, to put it shortly, I was

convinced that nothing was really done by the district councils,

or ever could be," he began, as though some one had just insulted

him. "On one side it's a plaything; they play at being a

parliament, and I'm neither young enough nor old enough to find

amusement in playthings; and on the other side" (he stammered)

"it's a means for the coterie of the district to make money.

Formerly they had wardships, courts of justice, now they have the

district council--not in the form of bribes, but in the form of

unearned salary," he said, as hotly as though someone of those

present had opposed his opinion.

"Aha! You're in a new phase again, I see--a conservative," said

Stepan Arkadyevitch. "However, we can go into that later."

"Yes, later. But I wanted to see you," said Levin, looking with

hatred at Grinevitch's hand.

Stepan Arkadyevitch gave a scarcely perceptible smile.

"How was it you used to say you would never wear European dress

again?" he said, scanning his new suit, obviously cut by a French

tailor. "Ah! I see: a new phase."

Levin suddenly blushed, not as grown men blush, slightly, without

being themselves aware of it, but as boys blush, feeling that

they are ridiculous through their shyness, and consequently

ashamed of it and blushing still more, almost to the point of

tears. And it was so strange to see this sensible, manly face in

such a childish plight, that Oblonsky left off looking at him.

"Oh, where shall we meet? You know I want very much to talk to

you," said Levin.

Oblonsky seemed to ponder.

"I'll tell you what: let's go to Gurin's to lunch, and there we

can talk. I am free till three."




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