And as soon as these words were spoken both of them felt that this was the end of it, that what should have been said would never be said, and the emotion which up to this moment had reached its highest pitch gradually died away.
"The birch mushroom, or its root, reminds one of a black beard which has not been shaved for two days," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, calmly.
"Quite true," answered Varenka, smiling, and involuntarily the direction of their walk changed. They were going back toward the children. Varenka was puzzled and hurt, but at the same time she experienced a sense of relief. Sergyeï Ivanovitch mentally reviewed his arguments in favor of marriage, and found them mistaken. He could not be unfaithful to Marie's memory.
"Gently, children, gently," cried Levin, testily, as the children sprang toward Kitty with shouts of glee.
Behind the children came Sergyeï Ivanovitch and Varenka. Kitty needed not to question them. She knew by their calm and slightly mortified manner that the hope which she had been nursing would not be realized.
"Well, how is it?" her husband asked, when they returned to the house.
"It will not happen," said Kitty, with a smile and manner which reminded him of her father, as Levin had often remarked to his delight.
"Why won't it happen?"
"This is why," said she, taking his hand, raising it to her mouth, and touching it with her closed lips. "As people kiss a bishop's hand!"
"Which one has failed of it?" he asked, laughing.
"Both. It must be so when...."
"Here come the muzhiks...."
"No, not yet."
