larly," said Levin, looking with disgust at Grinevitch's hand.
Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled imperceptibly. "Did n't you say that you would never again put on European clothes?" he asked, examining his friend's new suit, evidently made by a French tailor. "Indeed, I see; 't is a new phase."
Levin suddenly grew red, not as grown men grow red, without perceiving it, but as boys blush, conscious that they are ridiculous by reason of their bashfulness, and therefore ashamed and made to turn still redder till the tears almost come. It gave his intelligent, manly face such a strange appearance that Oblonsky turned away and refrained from looking at him.
"But where can we meet? You see it is very, very necessary for me to have a talk with you," said Levin.
Oblonsky seemed to reflect.
"How is this? We will go and have luncheon at Gurin's, and we can talk there. At three o'clock I shall be free."
"No," answered Levin after a moment's thought; "I've got to take a drive."
"Well, then, let us dine together."
"Dine? But I have nothing very particular to say, only two words, to ask a question; afterward we can gossip."
"In that case, speak your two words now; we will chat while we are at dinner."
"These two words are .... however, it's nothing very important."
His face suddenly assumed a hard expression, due to his efforts in conquering his timidity. "What are the Shcherbatskys doing?—just as they used to?"
Stepan Arkadyevitch, who had long known that Levin was in love with his sister-in-law Kitty, almost perceptibly smiled, and his eyes flashed gayly. "You said 'two words'; but I cannot answer in two words, because .... excuse me a moment."
The secretary came in at this juncture with his
