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importance in himself that could not be disputed, because he had long
nails and a stylish cap, and everything else to correspond; but this
could be forgiven for the sake of his good nature and good breeding.
Levin liked him for his good education, for speaking French and En-
glish with such an excellent accent, and for being a man of his world.
Vassenka was extremely delighted with the left horse, a horse of
the Don Steppes. He kept praising him enthusiastically. “How fine it
must be galloping over the steppes on a steppe horse! Eh? isn’t it?” he
said. He had imagined riding on a steppe horse as something wild and
romantic, and it turned out nothing of the sort. But his simplicity,
particularly in conjunction with his good looks, his amiable smile, and
the grace of his movements, was very attractive. Either because his
nature was sympathetic to Levin, or because Levin was trying to atone
for his sins of the previous evening by seeing nothing but what was
good in him, anyway he liked his society.
After they had driven over two miles from home, Veslovsky all at
once felt for a cigar and his pocketbook, and did not know whether he
had lost them or left them on the table. In the pocketbook there were
thirty-seven pounds, and so the matter could not be left in uncertainty.
“Do you know what, Levin, I’ll gallop home on that left trace-
horse. That will be splendid. Eh?” he said, preparing to get out.
“No, why should you?” answered Levin, calculating that Vassenka
could hardly weigh less than seventeen stone. “I’ll send the coach-
man.”
The coachman rode back on the trace-horse, and Levin himself
drove the remaining pair.
Chapter 9.
“Well, now what’s our plan of campaign? Tell us all about it,” said
Stepan Arkadyevitch.
“Our plan is this. Now we’re driving to Gvozdyov. In Gvozdyov
there’s a grouse marsh on this side, and beyond Gvozdyov come some
magnificent snipe marshes where there are grouse too. It’s hot now,
and we’ll get there—it’s fifteen miles or so—towards evening and have
some evening shooting; we’ll spend the night there and go on tomor-
row to the bigger moors.”
“And is there nothing on the way?”
“Yes; but we’ll reserve ourselves; besides it’s hot. There are two
nice little places, but I doubt there being anything to shoot.”
Levin would himself have liked to go into these little places, but
they were near home; he could shoot them over any time, and they
were only little places—there would hardly be room for three to shoot.
And so, with some insincerity, he said that he doubted there being
anything to shoot. When they reached a little marsh Levin would
have driven by, but Stepan Arkadyevitch, with the experienced eye of
a sportsman, at once detected reeds visible from the road.
“Shan’t we try that?” he said, pointing to the little marsh.
“Levin, do, please! how delightful!” Vassenka Veslovsky began
begging, and Levin could but consent.