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Updated: May 28, 2025
But, before Alexey Alexandrovitch had time to finish his sentence, Stepan Arkadyevitch was behaving not at all as he had expected. He groaned and sank into an armchair. "No, Alexey Alexandrovitch! What are you saying?" cried Oblonsky, and his suffering was apparent in his face. "It is so." "Excuse me, I can't, I can't believe it!"
"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.
The stupid sale of the forest, the fraud practiced upon Oblonsky and concluded in his house, exasperated him. "Well, finished?" he said, meeting Stepan Arkadyevitch upstairs. "Would you like supper?" "Well, I wouldn't say no to it. What an appetite I get in the country! Wonderful! Why didn't you offer Ryabinin something?" "Oh, damn him!" "Still, how you do treat him!" said Oblonsky.
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.
Oblonsky was feeling the same, and he too was not talkative. Vassenka Veslovsky kept up alone a ceaseless flow of cheerful chatter. As he listened to him now, Levin felt ashamed to think how unfair he had been to him the day before. Vassenka was really a nice fellow, simple, good-hearted, and very good-humored. If Levin had met him before he was married, he would have made friends with him.
I became quite an old gentleman. There was nothing left for me but to think of my eternal salvation. I went off to Paris I was as right as could be at once." Stepan Arkadyevitch felt exactly the difference that Pyotr Oblonsky described.
Levin ate the oysters indeed, though white bread and cheese would have pleased him better. But he was admiring Oblonsky. Even the Tatar, uncorking the bottle and pouring the sparkling wine into the delicate glasses, glanced at Stepan Arkadyevitch, and settled his white cravat with a perceptible smile of satisfaction.
He had always liked the good-hearted rake, Turovtsin he was associated in his mind with memories of his courtship and at that moment, after the strain of intellectual conversation, the sight of Turovtsin's good-natured face was particularly welcome. "For you and Oblonsky. He'll be here directly."
In addition to these there were the doctors, Sisters and students belonging to the army itself the Sixty-Fifth Division of the Ninth Army. These sometimes lived with us and sometimes by themselves; they had at their head Colonel Oblonsky, a military doctor of much experience and wide knowledge.
And now, at the mere recollection, he blushed. "Now there is something I want to talk about, and you know what it is. About Anna," Stepan Arkadyevitch said, pausing for a brief space, and shaking off the unpleasant impression. As soon as Oblonsky uttered Anna's name, the face of Alexey Alexandrovitch was completely transformed; all the life was gone out of it, and it looked weary and dead.
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