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Updated: May 23, 2025
But before she reached Petersburg they would have been missed by Stépan Lanovitch, who would naturally suspect the man who had been staying in his house, Bamborough a man with a doubtful reputation in the diplomatic world, a professed doer of dirty jobs.
But when Stepan Arkadyevitch began to speak of the causes of Kitty's illness, and mentioned Vronsky's name, Levin cut him short. "I have no right whatever to know family matters, and, to tell the truth, no interest in them either."
The man and the woman gazed open-eyed at Stepan Trofimovitch, and Stepan Trofimovitch gazed back at them with equal wonder, but after he had let them pass twenty paces, he got up hurriedly all of a sudden and walked after them.
The Frenchman was asleep as well as Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Mon ami," said Lidia Ivanovna, carefully holding the folds of her silk gown so as not to rustle, and in her excitement calling Karenin not Alexey Alexandrovitch, but "mon ami," "donnez-lui la main. Vous voyez? Sh!" she hissed at the footman as he came in again. "Not at home."
"How do you look at the question?" Stepan Arkadyevitch slowly emptied his glass of Chablis, never taking his eyes off Levin. "I?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, "there's nothing I desire so much as that nothing! It would be the best thing that could be." "But you're not making a mistake? You know what we're speaking of?" said Levin, piercing him with his eyes. "You think it's possible?"
Meanwhile from the other side of the marsh came the sound of Stepan Arkadyevitch's shots, not frequent, but, as Levin fancied, well-directed, for almost after each they heard "Krak, Krak, apporte!" This excited Levin still more. The snipe were floating continually in the air over the reeds.
"The theater, for instance, and the entertainments... a a a!" he yawned. "The electric light everywhere...a a a!" "Yes, the electric light," said Levin. "Yes. Oh, and where's Vronsky now?" he asked suddenly, laying down the soap. "Vronsky?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, checking his yawn; "he's in Petersburg. He left soon after you did, and he's not once been in Moscow since.
Forgive me, Stepan Trofimovitch, for my foolish confession, but you must admit, please, that, though you addressed them to me, you wrote them more for posterity, so that you really can't mind.... Come, come, don't be offended; we're friends, anyway. But this letter, Varvara Petrovna, this letter, I did read through.
Stepan Arkadyevitch felt completely nonplussed by the strange talk which he was hearing for the first time. The complexity of Petersburg, as a rule, had a stimulating effect on him, rousing him out of his Moscow stagnation. But he liked these complications, and understood them only in the circles he knew and was at home in.
"Your compliment is uttered so audibly that I ought to pretend not to hear it," Stepan Trofimovitch said neatly, "but I cannot believe that my insignificant presence is so indispensable at your fete to-morrow. However, I..." "Why, you'll spoil him!" cried Pyotr Stepanovitch, bursting into the room.
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