Anna Karenina

etting up from the table, Levin walked with Gagin through the lofty
room to the billiard room, feeling his arms swing as he walked with a
peculiar lightness and ease. As he crossed the big room, he came upon
his father-in-law.

“Well, how do you like our Temple of Indolence?” said the prince,
taking his arm. “Come along, come along!”

“Yes, I wanted to walk about and look at everything. It’s interesting.”

“Yes, it’s interesting for you. But its interest for me is quite
different. You look at those little old men now,” he said, pointing to
a club member with bent back and projecting lip, shuffling towards them
in his soft boots, “and imagine that they were shlupiks like that
from their birth up.”

“How shlupiks?”

“I see you don’t know that name. That’s our club designation. You know
the game of rolling eggs: when one’s rolled a long while it becomes a
shlupik. So it is with us; one goes on coming and coming to the club,
and ends by becoming a shlupik. Ah, you laugh! but we look out, for
fear of dropping into it ourselves. You know Prince Tchetchensky?”
inquired the prince; and Levin saw by his face that he was just going
to relate something funny.

“No, I don’t know him.”

“You don’t say so! Well, Prince Tchetchensky is a well-known figure. No
matter, though. He’s always playing billiards here. Only three years
ago he was not a shlupik and kept up his spirits and even used to
call other people shlupiks. But one day he turns up, and our porter
... you know Vassily? Why, that fat one; he’s famous for his bon
mots. And so Prince Tchetchensky asks him, ‘Come, Vassily, who’s here?
Any shlupiks here yet?’ And he says, ‘You’re the third.’ Yes, my dear
boy, that he did!”

Talking and greeting the friends they met, Levin and the prince walked
through all the rooms: the great room where tables had already been
set, and the usual partners were playing for small stakes; the divan
room, where they were playing chess, and Sergey Ivanovitch was sitting
talking to somebody; the billiard room, where, about a sofa in a
recess, there was a lively party drinking champagne—Gagin was one of
them. They peeped into the “infernal regions,” where a good many men
were crowding round one table, at which Yashvin was sitting. Trying not
to make a noise, they walked into the dark reading room, where under
the shaded lamps there sat a young man with a wrathful countenance,
turning over one journal after another, and a bald general buried in a
book. They went, too, into what the prince called the intellectual
room, where three gentlemen were engaged in a heated discussion of the
latest political news.

“Prince, please come, we’re ready,” said one of his card party, who had
come to look for him, and the prince went off. Levin sat down and
listened, but recalling all the conversation of the morning he felt all
of a sudden fearfully bored. He got up hurriedly, and went to look for
Oblonsky and Turovtsin, with whom it had been so pleasant.

Turovtsin was one of the circle drinking in the billiard room, and
Stepan Arkadyevitch was talking with Vronsky near the door at the
farther corner of the room.

“It’s not that she’s dull; but this undefined, this unsettled
position,” Levin caught, and he was hurrying away, but Stepan
Arkadyevitch called to him.

“Levin,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, and Levin noticed that his eyes were
not full of tears exactly, but moist, which always happened when he had
been drinking, or when he was touched. Just now it was due to both
causes. “Levin, don’t go,” he said, and he warmly squeezed his arm
above the elbow, obviously not at all wishing to let him go.

“This is a true friend of mine—almost my greatest friend,” he said to
Vronsky. “You have become even closer and dearer to me. And I want you,
and I know you ought, to be friends, and great friends, because you’re
both splendid fellows.”

“Well, there’s nothing for us now but to kiss and be friends,” Vronsky
said, with good-natured playfulness, holding out his hand.

Levin quickly took the offered hand, and pressed it warmly.

“I’m very, very glad,” said Levin.

“Waiter, a bottle of champagne,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch.

“And I’m very glad,” said Vronsky.

But in spite of Stepan Arkadyevitch’s desire, and their own desire,
they had nothing to talk about, and both felt it.

“Do you know, he has never met Anna?” Stepan Arkadyevitch said to
Vronsky. “And I want above everything to take him to see her. Let us
go, Levin!”

“Really?” said Vronsky. “She will be very glad to see you. I should be
going home at once,” he added, “but I’m worried about Yashvin, and I
want to stay on till he finishes.”

“Why, is he losing?”

“He keeps losing, and I’m the only friend that can restrain him.”

“Well, what do you say to pyramids? Levin, will you play? Capital!”
said Stepan Arkadyevitch. “Get the table ready,” he said to the marker.

“It has been ready a long while,” answered the marker, who had already
set the balls in a triangle, and was knocking the red one about for his
own diversion.

“Well, let us begin.”

After the game Vronsky and Levin sat down at Gagin’s table, and at
Stepan Arkadyevitch’s suggestion Levin took a hand in the game.

Vronsky sat down at the table, surrounded by friends, who were
incessantly coming up to him. Every now and then he went to the
“infernal” to keep an eye on Yashvin. Levin was enjoying a delightful
sense of repose after the mental fatigue of the morning. He was glad
that all hostility was at an end with Vronsky, and the sense of peace,
decorum, and comfort never left him.

When the game was over, Stepan Arkadyevitch took Levin’s arm.

“Well, let us go to Anna’s, then. At once? Eh? She is at home. I
promised her long ago to bring you. Where were you meaning to spend the
evening?”

“Oh, nowhere specially. I promised Sviazhsky to go to the Society of
Agriculture. By all means, let us go,” said Levin.

“Very good; come along. Find out if my carriage is here,” Stepan
Arkadyevitch said to the waiter.

Levin went up to the table, paid the forty roubles he had lost; paid
his bill, the amount of which was in some mysterious way ascertained by
the little old waiter who stood at the counter, and swinging his arms
he walked through all the rooms to the way out.