Anna Karenina - Part 2

"How count the trees?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing, still

trying to draw his friend out of his ill-temper. "Count the

sands of the sea, number the stars. Some higher power might do

it."

"Oh, well, the higher power of Ryabinin can. Not a single

merchant ever buys a forest without counting the trees, unless

they get it given them for nothing, as you're doing now. I know

your forest. I go there every year shooting, and your forest's

worth a hundred and fifty roubles an acre paid down, while he's

giving you sixty by installments. So that in fact you're making

him a present of thirty thousand."

"Come, don't let your imagination run away with you," said Stepan

Arkadyevitch piteously. "Why was it none would give it, then?"

"Why, because he has an understanding with the merchants; he's

bought them off. I've had to do with all of them; I know them.

They're not merchants, you know: they're speculators. He

wouldn't look at a bargain that gave him ten, fifteen per cent

profit, but holds back to buy a rouble's worth for twenty

kopecks."

"Well, enough of it! You're out of temper."

"Not the least," said Levin gloomily, as they drove up to the

house.

At the steps there stood a trap tightly covered with iron and

leather, with a sleek horse tightly harnessed with broad

collar-straps. In the trap sat the chubby, tightly belted clerk

who served Ryabinin as coachman. Ryabinin himself was already in

the house, and met the friends in the hall. Ryabinin was a tall,

thinnish, middle-aged man, with mustache and a projecting

clean-shaven chin, and prominent muddy-looking eyes. He was

dressed in a long-skirted blue coat, with buttons below the waist

at the back, and wore high boots wrinkled over the ankles and

straight over the calf, with big galoshes drawn over them. He

rubbed his face with his handkerchief, and wrapping round him his

coat, which sat extremely well as it was, he greeted them with a

smile, holding out his hand to Stepan Arkadyevitch, as though he

wanted to catch something.

"So here you are," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, giving him his hand.

"That's capital."

"I did not venture to disregard your excellency's commands,

though the road was extremely bad. I positively walked the whole

way, but I am here at my time. Konstantin Dmitrievitch, my

respects"; he turned to Levin, trying to seize his hand too. But

Levin, scowling, made as though he did not notice his hand, and

took out the snipe. "Your honors have been diverting yourselves

with the chase? What kind of bird may it be, pray?" added

Ryabinin, looking contemptuously at the snipe: "a great

delicacy, I suppose." And he shook his head disapprovingly, as

though he had grave doubts whether this game were worth the

candle.