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Chapter 7


Levin reached the club just at the right time. Members and
visitors were driving up as he arrived. Levin had not been at
the club for a very long while--not since he lived in Moscow,
when he was leaving the university and going into society. He
remembered the club, the external details of its arrangement, but
he had completely forgotten the impression it had made on him in
old days. But as soon as, driving into the wide semicircular
court and getting out of the sledge, he mounted the steps, and
the hall porter, adorned with a crossway scarf, noiselessly
opened the door to him with a bow; as soon as he saw in the
porter's room the cloaks and galoshes of members who thought it
less trouble to take them off downstairs; as soon as he heard the
mysterious ringing bell that preceded him as he ascended the
easy, carpeted staircase, and saw the statue on the landing, and
the third porter at the top doors, a familiar figure grown older,
in the club livery, opening the door without haste or delay, and
scanning the visitors as they passed in--Levin felt the old
impression of the club come back in a rush, an impression of
repose, comfort, and propriety.

"Your hat, please," the porter said to Levin, who forgot the club
rule to leave his hat in the porter's room. "Long time since
you've been. The prince put your name down yesterday. Prince
Stepan Arkadyevitch is not here yet."

The porter did not only know Levin, but also all his ties and
relationships, and so immediately mentioned his intimate friends.

Passing through the outer hall, divided up by screens, and the
room partitioned on the right, where a man sits at the fruit
buffet, Levin overtook an old man walking slowly in, and entered
the dining room full of noise and people.

He walked along the tables, almost all full, and looked at the
visitors. He saw people of all sorts, old and young; some he
knew a little, some intimate friends. There was not a single
cross or worried-looking face. All seemed to have left their
cares and anxieties in the porter's room with their hats, and
were all deliberately getting ready to enjoy the material
blessings of life. Sviazhsky was here and Shtcherbatsky,
Nevyedovsky and the old prince, and Vronsky and Sergey
Ivanovitch.

"Ah! why are you late?" the prince said smiling, and giving him
his hand over his own shoulder. "How's Kitty?" he added,
smoothing out the napkin he had tucked in at his waistcoat
buttons.

"All right; they are dining at home, all the three of them."

"Ah, 'Aline-Nadine,' to be sure! There's no room with us. Go to
that table, and make haste and take a seat," said the prince, and
turning away he carefully took a plate of eel soup.

"Levin, this way!" a good-natured voice shouted a little farther
on. It was Turovtsin. He was sitting with a young officer, and
beside them were two chairs turned upside down. Levin gladly
went up to them. He had always liked the good-hearted rake,
Turovtsin--he was associated in his mind with memories of his
courtship--and at that moment, after the strain of intellectual
conversation, the sight of Turovtsin's good-natured face was
particularly welcome.

"For you and Oblonsky. He'll be here directly."

The young man, holding himself very erect, with eyes forever
twinkling with enjoyment, was an officer from Petersburg, Gagin.
Turovtsin introduced them.

"Oblonsky's always late."

"Ah, here he is!"

"Have you only just come?" said Oblonsky, coming quickly towards
them. "Good day. Had some vodka? Well, come along then."

Levin got up and went with him to the big table spread with
spirits and appetizers of the most various kinds. One would have
thought that out of two dozen delicacies one might find something
to one's taste, but Stepan Arkadyevitch asked for something
special, and one of the liveried waiters standing by immediately
brought what was required. They drank a wine glassful and
returned to their table.

At once, while they were still at the soup, Gagin was served with
champagne, and told the waiter to fill four glasses. Levin did
not refuse the wine, and asked for a second bottle. He was very
hungry, and ate and drank with great enjoyment, and with still
greater enjoyment took part in the lively and simple conversation
of his companions. Gagin, dropping his voice, told the last good
story from Petersburg, and the story, though improper and stupid,
was so ludicrous that Levin broke into roars of laughter so loud
that those near looked round.

"That's in the same style as, 'that's a thing I can't endure!'
You know the story?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Ah, that's
exquisite! Another bottle," he said to the waiter, and he began
to relate his good story.

"Pyotr Illyitch Vinovsky invites you to drink with him," a little
old waiter interrupted Stepan Arkadyevitch, bringing two delicate
glasses of sparkling champagne, and addressing Stepan
Arkadyevitch and Levin. Stepan Arkadyevitch took the glass, and
looking towards a bald man with red mustaches at the other end of
the table, he nodded to him, smiling.

"Who's that?" asked Levin.

"You met him once at my place, don't you remember? A
good-natured fellow."

Levin did the same as Stepan Arkadyevitch and took the glass.

Stepan Arkadyevitch's anecdote too was very amusing. Levin told
his story, and that too was successful. Then they talked of
horses, of the races, of what they had been doing that day, and
of how smartly Vronsky's Atlas had won the first prize. Levin
did not notice how the time passed at dinner.

"Ah! and here they are!" Stepan Arkadyevitch said towards the end
of dinner, leaning over the back of his chair and holding out his
hand to Vronsky, who came up with a tall officer of the Guards.
Vronsky's face too beamed with the look of good-humored enjoyment
that was general in the club. He propped his elbow playfully on
Stepan Arkadyevitch's shoulder, whispering something to him, and
he held out his hand to Levin with the same good-humored smile.

"Very glad to meet you," he said. "I looked out for you at the
election, but I was told you had gone away."

"Yes, I left the same day. We've just been talking of your
horse. I congratulate you," said Levin. "It was very rapidly
run."

"Yes; you've race horses too, haven't you?"

"No, my father had; but I remember and know something about it."

"Where have you dined?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"We were at the second table, behind the columns."

"We've been celebrating his success," said the tall colonel.
"It's his second Imperial prize. I wish I might have the luck at
cards he has with horses. Well, why waste the precious time?
I'm going to the 'infernal regions,'" added the colonel, and he
walked away.

"That's Yashvin," Vronsky said in answer to Turovtsin, and he sat
down in the vacated seat beside them. He drank the glass offered
him, and ordered a bottle of wine. Under the influence of the
club atmosphere or the wine he had drunk, Levin chatted away to
Vronsky of the best breeds of cattle, and was very glad not to
feel the slightest hostility to this man. He even told him,
among other things, that he had heard from his wife that she had
met him at Princess Marya Borissovna's.

"Ah, Princess Marya Borissovna, she's exquisite!" said Stepan
Arkadyevitch, and he told an anecdote about her which set them
all laughing. Vronsky particularly laughed with such
simplehearted amusement that Levin felt quite reconciled to him.

"Well, have we finished?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting up
with a smile. "Let us go."



Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
Category:
Fiction - Russian literature
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