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And, anxious to change the conversation, he inquired about what interested them both the new head of Stepan Arkadyevitch's department, a man not yet old, who had suddenly been promoted to so high a position. Alexey Alexandrovitch had previously felt no liking for Count Anitchkin, and had always differed from him in his opinions.
The shirt worn since the morning was crumpled and out of the question with the fashionable open waistcoat. It was a long way to send to the Shtcherbatskys'. They sent out to buy a shirt. The servant came back; everything was shut up it was Sunday. They sent to Stepan Arkadyevitch's and brought a shirt it was impossibly wide and short. They sent finally to the Shtcherbatskys' to unpack the things.
"Well, I'm very, very glad to see you," said Levin, with a genuine smile of childlike delight. Levin led his friend to the room set apart for visitors, where Stepan Arkadyevitch's things were carried also a bag, a gun in a case, a satchel for cigars. Leaving him there to wash and change his clothes, Levin went off to the counting house to speak about the ploughing and clover.
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.
Stepan Arkadyevitch's eyes asked: "Why do you tell me that? don't you know?" Matvey put his hands in his jacket pockets, thrust out one leg, and gazed silently, good-humoredly, with a faint smile, at his master. "I told them to come on Sunday, and till then not to trouble you or themselves for nothing," he said. He had obviously prepared the sentence beforehand.
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