Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART SIX CHAPTER 11
“I don’t give it away, because no one demands that from me, and if I wanted to, I
could not give it away,” answered Levin, “and have no one to give it to.”
“Give it to this peasant, he would not refuse it.”
“Yes, but how am I to give it up? Am I to go to him and make a deed of conveyance?”
“I don’t know; but if you are convinced that you have no right...”
“I’m not at all convinced. On the contrary, I feel I have no right to give it up, that I
have duties both to the land and to my family.”
“No, excuse me, but if you consider this inequality is unjust, why is it you don’t
act accordingly?...”
“Well, I do act negatively on that idea, so far as not trying to increase the difference
of position existing between him and me.”
“No, excuse me, that’s a paradox.”
“Yes, there’s something of a sophistry about that,” Veslovsky agreed. “Ah! our
host; so you’re not asleep yet?” he said to the peasant who came into the barn,
opening the creaking door. “How is it you’re not asleep?”
“No, how’s one to sleep! I thought our gentlemen would be asleep, but I heard
them chattering. I want to get a hook from here. She won’t bite?” he added, stepping
cautiously with his bare feet.
“And where are you going to sleep?”
“We are going out for the night with the beasts.”
“Ah, what a night!” said Veslovsky, looking out at the edge of the hut and the
unharnessed wagonette that could be seen in the faint light of the evening glow in
the great frame of the open doors. “But listen, there are women’s voices singing,
and, on my word, not badly too. Who’s that singing, my friend?”
“That’s the maids from hard by here.”
“Let’s go, let’s have a walk! We shan’t go to sleep, you know. Oblonsky, come
along!”
“If one could only do both, lie here and go,” answered Oblonsky, stretching. “It’s
capital lying here.”
“Well, I shall go by myself,” said Veslovsky, getting up eagerly, and putting on his
shoes and stockings. “Good-bye, gentlemen. If it’s fun, I’ll fetch you. You’ve treated
me to some good sport, and I won’t forget you.”
“He really is a capital fellow, isn’t he?” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, when Veslovsky
had gone out and the peasant had closed the door after him.
“Yes, capital,” answered Levin, still thinking of the subject of their conversation
just before. It seemed to him that he had clearly expressed his thoughts and feelings
to the best of his capacity, and yet both of them, straightforward men and not
fools, had said with one voice that he was comforting himself with sophistries. This
disconcerted him.
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