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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 108/828
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“
How
could
she
fail
to
be
?
Oh
,
Semyon
the
contractor
came
the
day
after
you
left
.
You
must
settle
with
him
,
Konstantin
Dmitrievitch
,
”
said
the
bailiff
.
“
I
did
inform
you
about
the
machine
.
”
This
question
was
enough
to
take
Levin
back
to
all
the
details
of
his
work
on
the
estate
,
which
was
on
a
large
scale
,
and
complicated
.
He
went
straight
from
the
cowhouse
to
the
counting
house
,
and
after
a
little
conversation
with
the
bailiff
and
Semyon
the
contractor
,
he
went
back
to
the
house
and
straight
upstairs
to
the
drawing
-
room
.
The
house
was
big
and
old
-
fashioned
,
and
Levin
,
though
he
lived
alone
,
had
the
whole
house
heated
and
used
.
He
knew
that
this
was
stupid
,
he
knew
that
it
was
positively
not
right
,
and
contrary
to
his
present
new
plans
,
but
this
house
was
a
whole
world
to
Levin
.
It
was
the
world
in
which
his
father
and
mother
had
lived
and
died
.
They
had
lived
just
the
life
that
to
Levin
seemed
the
ideal
of
perfection
,
and
that
he
had
dreamed
of
beginning
with
his
wife
,
his
family
.
Levin
scarcely
remembered
his
mother
.
His
conception
of
her
was
for
him
a
sacred
memory
,
and
his
future
wife
was
bound
to
be
in
his
imagination
a
repetition
of
that
exquisite
,
holy
ideal
of
a
woman
that
his
mother
had
been
.
He
was
so
far
from
conceiving
of
love
for
woman
apart
from
marriage
that
he
positively
pictured
to
himself
first
the
family
,
and
only
secondarily
the
woman
who
would
give
him
a
family
.
His
ideas
of
marriage
were
,
consequently
,
quite
unlike
those
of
the
great
majority
of
his
acquaintances
,
for
whom
getting
married
was
one
of
the
numerous
facts
of
social
life
.
For
Levin
it
was
the
chief
affair
of
life
,
on
which
its
whole
happiness
turned
.
And
now
he
had
to
give
up
that
.
When
he
had
gone
into
the
little
drawing
-
room
,
where
he
always
had
tea
,
and
had
settled
himself
in
his
armchair
with
a
book
,
and
Agafea
Mihalovna
had
brought
him
tea
,
and
with
her
usual
,
“
Well
,
I
’
ll
stay
a
while
,
sir
,
”
had
taken
a
chair
in
the
window
,
he
felt
that
,
however
strange
it
might
be
,
he
had
not
parted
from
his
daydreams
,
and
that
he
could
not
live
without
them
.
Whether
with
her
,
or
with
another
,
still
it
would
be
.
He
was
reading
a
book
,
and
thinking
of
what
he
was
reading
,
and
stopping
to
listen
to
Agafea
Mihalovna
,
who
gossiped
away
without
flagging
,
and
yet
with
all
that
,
all
sorts
of
pictures
of
family
life
and
work
in
the
future
rose
disconnectedly
before
his
imagination
.
He
felt
that
in
the
depth
of
his
soul
something
had
been
put
in
its
place
,
settled
down
,
and
laid
to
rest
.
He
heard
Agafea
Mihalovna
talking
of
how
Prohor
had
forgotten
his
duty
to
God
,
and
with
the
money
Levin
had
given
him
to
buy
a
horse
,
had
been
drinking
without
stopping
,
and
had
beaten
his
wife
till
he
’
d
half
killed
her
.
He
listened
,
and
read
his
book
,
and
recalled
the
whole
train
of
ideas
suggested
by
his
reading
.
It
was
Tyndall
’
s
Treatise
on
Heat
.
He
recalled
his
own
criticisms
of
Tyndall
of
his
complacent
satisfaction
in
the
cleverness
of
his
experiments
,
and
for
his
lack
of
philosophic
insight
.
And
suddenly
there
floated
into
his
mind
the
joyful
thought
:
“
In
two
years
’
time
I
shall
have
two
Dutch
cows
;
Pava
herself
will
perhaps
still
be
alive
,
a
dozen
young
daughters
of
Berkoot
and
the
three
others
—
how
lovely
!
”
He
took
up
his
book
again
.
“
Very
good
,
electricity
and
heat
are
the
same
thing
;
but
is
it
possible
to
substitute
the
one
quantity
for
the
other
in
the
equation
for
the
solution
of
any
problem
?
No
.
Well
,
then
what
of
it
?
The
connection
between
all
the
forces
of
nature
is
felt
instinctively
.
.
.
.
It
’
s
particulary
nice
if
Pava
’
s
daughter
should
be
a
red
-
spotted
cow
,
and
all
the
herd
will
take
after
her
,
and
the
other
three
,
too
!
Splendid
!
To
go
out
with
my
wife
and
visitors
to
meet
the
herd
.
.
.
.
My
wife
says
,
‘
Kostya
and
I
looked
after
that
calf
like
a
child
.
’
‘
How
can
it
interest
you
so
much
?
’
says
a
visitor
.
‘
Everything
that
interests
him
,
interests
me
.
’
But
who
will
she
be
?
”
And
he
remembered
what
had
happened
at
Moscow
.
.
.
.
“
Well
,
there
’
s
nothing
to
be
done
.
.
.
.
It
’
s
not
my
fault
.
But
now
everything
shall
go
on
in
a
new
way
.
It
’
s
nonsense
to
pretend
that
life
won
’
t
let
one
,
that
the
past
won
’
t
let
one
.
One
must
struggle
to
live
better
,
much
better
.
”
.
.
.
He
raised
his
head
,
and
fell
to
dreaming
.
Old
Laska
,
who
had
not
yet
fully
digested
her
delight
at
his
return
,
and
had
run
out
into
the
yard
to
bark
,
came
back
wagging
her
tail
,
and
crept
up
to
him
,
bringing
in
the
scent
of
fresh
air
,
put
her
head
under
his
hand
,
and
whined
plaintively
,
asking
to
be
stroked
.
