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"He's thinner and taller, and has grown out of being a child into a boy; I like that," said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Do you remember me?" The boy looked back quickly at his uncle. "Yes, mon oncle," he answered, glancing at his father, and again he looked downcast. His uncle called him to him, and took his hand.
So it had been with Bryantsev, whom Stepan Arkadyevitch had met the previous day, and who was one of the highest functionaries in government now. There was some interest in official work like that. The Petersburg attitude on pecuniary matters had an especially soothing effect on Stepan Arkadyevitch.
"I know him by reputation and by sight. I know that he's clever, learned, religious somewhat.... But you know that's not...not in my line," said Vronsky in English. "Yes, he's a very remarkable man; rather a conservative, but a splendid man," observed Stepan Arkadyevitch, "a splendid man." "Oh, well, so much the better for him," said Vronsky smiling.
So one goes on living, amusing oneself with hunting, with work anything so as not to think of death!" Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled a subtle affectionate smile as he listened to Levin. "Well, of course! Here you've come round to my point. Do you remember you attacked me for seeking enjoyment in life? Don't be so severe, O moralist!"
"How is mamma?" he asked, passing his hand over his daughter's smooth, soft little neck. "Good morning," he said, smiling to the boy, who had come up to greet him. He was conscious that he loved the boy less, and always tried to be fair; but the boy felt it, and did not respond with a smile to his father's chilly smile. "Mamma? She is up," answered the girl. Stepan Arkadyevitch sighed.
Three days after the quarrel, Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch Oblonsky Stiva, as he was called in the fashionable world woke up at his usual hour, that is, at eight o'clock in the morning, not in his wife's bedroom, but on the leather-covered sofa in his study.
I should be going home at once," he added, "but I'm worried about Yashvin, and I want to stay on till he finishes." "Why, is he losing?" "He keeps losing, and I'm the only friend that can restrain him." "Well, what do you say to pyramids? Levin, will you play? Capital!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Get the table ready," he said to the marker.
Krak darted out from behind the twisted root of an alder, black all over with the stinking mire of the marsh, and with the air of a conqueror sniffed at Laska. Behind Krak there came into view in the shade of the alder tree the shapely figure of Stepan Arkadyevitch. He came to meet him, red and perspiring, with unbuttoned neckband, still limping in the same way. "Well?
Stepan Arkadyevitch took the glass, and looking towards a bald man with red mustaches at the other end of the table, he nodded to him, smiling. "Who's that?" asked Levin. "You met him once at my place, don't you remember? A good-natured fellow." Levin did the same as Stepan Arkadyevitch and took the glass. Stepan Arkadyevitch's anecdote too was very amusing.
It's a matter of ten roubles," he added, relaxing his lips into a smile. "I have decided, but I was afraid you might not agree." Levin saw it was a joke, but he could not smile. "Well, how's it to be then? unlighted or lighted candles? that's the question." "Yes, yes, unlighted." "Oh, I'm very glad. The question's decided!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling.
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