Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART SIX CHAPTER 30
“It’s because I consider that the justice of the peace is a silly institution,” Levin
answered gloomily. He had been all the time looking for an opportunity to enter into
conversation with Vronsky, so as to smooth over his rudeness at their first meeting.
“I don’t think so, quite the contrary,” Vronsky said, with quiet surprise.
“It’s a plaything,” Levin cut him short. “We don’t want justices of the peace. I’ve
never had a single thing to do with them during eight years. And what I have had
was decided wrongly by them. The justice of the peace is over thirty miles from
me. For some matter of two roubles I should have to send a lawyer, who costs me
fifteen.”
And he related how a peasant had stolen some flour from the miller, and when
the miller told him of it, had lodged a complaint for slander. All this was utterly
uncalled for and stupid, and Levin felt it himself as he said it.
“Oh, this is such an original fellow!” said Stepan Arkadyevitch with his most
soothing, almond-oil smile. “But come along; I think they’re voting....”
And they separated.
“I can’t understand,” said Sergey Ivanovitch, who had observed his brother’s
clumsiness, “I can’t understand how anyone can be so absolutely devoid of political
tact. That’s where we Russians are so deficient. The marshal of the province is
our opponent, and with him you’re ami cochon, and you beg him to stand. Count
Vronsky, now ...I’m not making a friend of him; he’s asked me to dinner, and I’m not
going; but he’s one of our side–why make an enemy of him? Then you ask Nevyedovsky
if he’s going to stand. That’s not a thing to do.”
“Oh, I don’t understand it at all! And it’s all such nonsense,” Levin answered
gloomily.
“You say it’s all such nonsense, but as soon as you have anything to do with it,
you make a muddle.”
Levin did not answer, and they walked together into the big room.
The marshal of the province, though he was vaguely conscious in the air of some
trap being prepared for him, and though he had not been called upon by all to stand,
had still made up his mind to stand. All was silence in the room. The secretary announced
in a loud voice that the captain of the guards, Mihail Stepanovitch Snetkov,
would now be balloted for as marshal of the province.
The district marshals walked carrying plates, on which were balls, from their tables
to the high table, and the election began.
“Put it in the right side,” whispered Stepan Arkadyevitch, as with his brother
Levin followed the marshal of his district to the table. But Levin had forgotten
by now the calculations that had been explained to him, and was afraid Stepan
Arkadyevitch might be mistaken in saying “the right side.” Surely Snetkov was
the enemy. As he went up, he held the ball in his right hand, but thinking he was
wrong, just at the box he changed to the left hand, and undoubtedly put the ball to
the left. An adept in the business, standing at the box and seeing by the mere action
of the elbow where each put his ball, scowled with annoyance. It was no good for
him to use his insight.
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