Anna Karenina - Part 1

When Levin went into the restaurant with Oblonsky, he could not

help noticing a certain peculiarity of expression, as it were, a

restrained radiance, about the face and whole figure of Stepan

Arkadyevitch. Oblonsky took off his overcoat, and with his hat

over one ear walked into the dining room, giving directions to

the Tatar waiters, who were clustered about him in evening coats,

bearing napkins. Bowing to right and left to the people he met,

and here as everywhere joyously greeting acquaintances, he went

up to the sideboard for a preliminary appetizer of fish and

vodka, and said to the painted Frenchwoman decked in ribbons,

lace, and ringlets, behind the counter, something so amusing that

even that Frenchwoman was moved to genuine laughter. Levin for

his part refrained from taking any vodka simply because he felt

such a loathing of that Frenchwoman, all made up, it seemed, of

false hair, _poudre de riz,_ and _vinaigre de toilette_. He made

haste to move away from her, as from a dirty place. His whole

soul was filled with memories of Kitty, and there was a smile of

triumph and happiness shining in his eyes.

"This way, your excellency, please. Your excellency won't be

disturbed here," said a particularly pertinacious, white-headed

old Tatar with immense hips and coat-tails gaping widely behind.

"Walk in, your excellency," he said to Levin; by way of showing

his respect to Stepan Arkadyevitch, being attentive to his guest

as well.

Instantly flinging a fresh cloth over the round table under the

bronze chandelier, though it already had a table cloth on it, he

pushed up velvet chairs, and came to a standstill before Stepan

Arkadyevitch with a napkin and a bill of fare in his hands,

awaiting his commands.

"If you prefer it, your excellency, a private room will be free

directly; Prince Golistin with a lady. Fresh oysters have come

in."

"Ah! oysters."

Stepan Arkadyevitch became thoughtful.

"How if we were to change our program, Levin?" he said, keeping

his finger on the bill of fare. And his face expressed serious

hesitation. "Are the oysters good? Mind now."

"They're Flensburg, your excellency. We've no Ostend."

"Flensburg will do, but are they fresh?"

"Only arrived yesterday."

"Well, then, how if we were to begin with oysters, and so change

the whole program? Eh?"

"It's all the same to me. I should like cabbage soup and

porridge better than anything; but of course there's nothing like

that here."

"_Porridge à la Russe,_ your honor would like?" said the Tatar,

bending down to Levin, like a nurse speaking to a child.