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close up to him, breathing her hot breath upon him. She was in pain and was, as it were, complaining to him of her suffering. And for the first minute, from habit, it seemed to him that he was to blame. But in her eyes there was a tenderness that told him that she was far from reproaching him, that she loved him for her sufferings. "If not I, who is to blame for it?" he thought unconsciously, seeking someone responsible for this suffering for him to punish; but there was no one responsible. She was suffering, complaining, and triumphing in her sufferings, and rejoicing in them, and loving them. He saw that something sublime was being accomplished in her soul, but what? He could not make it out. It was beyond his understanding. "I have sent to mamma. You go quickly to fetch Lizaveta Petrovna ..Kostya!... Nothing, it's over." She moved away from him and rang the bell. "Well, go now; Pasha's coming. I am all right." And Levin saw with astonishment that she had taken up the knitting she had brought in in the night and begun working at it again. As Levin was going out of one door, he heard the maid-servant come in at the other. He stood at the door and heard Kitty giving exact directions to the maid, and beginning to help her move the bedstead. He dressed, and while they were putting in his horses, as a hired sledge was not to be seen yet, he ran again up to the bedroom,
