Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART FOUR CHAPTER 9
“When?” she asked, wondering.
“You were driving to Ergushovo,” said Levin, feeling as if he would sob with
the rapture that was flooding his heart. “And how dared I associate a thought of
anything not innocent with this touching creature? And, yes, I do believe it’s true
what Darya Alexandrovna told me,” he thought.
Stepan Arkadyevitch took him by the arm and led him away to Karenin.
“Let me introduce you.” He mentioned their names.
“Very glad to meet you again,” said Alexey Alexandrovitch coldly, shaking hands
with Levin.
“You are acquainted?” Stepan Arkadyevitch asked in surprise.
“We spent three hours together in the train,” said Levin smiling, “but got out, just
as in a masquerade, quite mystified–at least I was.”
“Nonsense! Come along, please,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, pointing in the direction
of the dining room.
The men went into the dining-room and went up to a table, laid with six sorts of
spirits and as many kinds of cheese, some with little silver spades and some without,
caviar, herrings, preserves of various kinds, and plates with slices of French bread.
The men stood round the strong-smelling spirits and salt delicacies, and the discussion
of the Russification of Poland between Koznishev, Karenin, and Pestsov died
down in anticipation of dinner.
Sergey Ivanovitch was unequaled in his skill in winding up the most heated and
serious argument by some unexpected pinch of Attic salt that changed the disposition
of his opponent. He did this now.
Alexey Alexandrovitch had been maintaining that the Russification of Poland
could only be accomplished as a result of larger measures which ought to be introduced
by the Russian government.
Pestsov insisted that one country can only absorb another when it is the more
densely populated.
Koznishev admitted both points, but with limitations. As they were going out of
the drawing room to conclude the argument, Koznishev said, smiling:
“So, then, for the Russification of our foreign populations there is but one method–
to bring up as many children as one can. My brother and I are terribly in fault, I see.
You married men, especially you, Stepan Arkadyevitch, are the real patriots: what
number have you reached?” he said, smiling genially at their host and holding out
a tiny wine glass to him.
Everyone laughed, and Stepan Arkadyevitch with particular good humor.
“Oh, yes, that’s the best method!” he said, munching cheese and filling the wineglass
with a special sort of spirit. The conversation dropped at the jest.
“This cheese is not bad. Shall I give you some?” said the master of the house.
“Why, have you been going in for gymnastics again?” he asked Levin, pinching his
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