Part Four: Chapter 13

by Leo Tolstoy

　　When they rose from table, Levin would have liked to follow Kittyinto the drawing room; but he was afraid she might dislike this,as too obviously paying her attention. He remained in the littlering of men, taking part in the general conversation, and withoutlooking at Kitty, he was aware of her movements, her looks, andthe place where she was in the drawing room.

　　He did at once, and without the smallest effort, keep the promisehe had made her--always to think well of all men, and to likeeveryone always. The conversation fell on the village commune,in which Pestsov saw a sort of special principle, called by himthe choral principle. Levin did not agree with Pestsov, nor withhis brother, who had a special attitude of his own, bothadmitting and not admitting the significance of the Russiancommune. But he talked to them, simply trying to reconcile andsoften their differences. He was not in the least interested inwhat he said himself, and even less so in what they said; all hewanted was that they and everyone should be happy and contented.He knew now the one thing of importance; and that one thing wasat first there, in the drawing room, and then began moving acrossand came to a standstill at the door. Without turning round hefelt the eyes fixed on him, and the smile, and he could not helpturning round. She was standing in the doorway withShtcherbatsky, looking at him.

　　"I thought you were going towards the piano," said he, going upto her. "That's something I miss in the country--music."

　　"No; we only came to fetch you and thank you," she said,rewarding him with a smile that was like a gift, "for coming.What do they want to argue for? No one ever convinces anyone,you know."

　　"Yes; that's true," said Levin; "it generally happens that oneargues warmly simply because one can't make out what one'sopponent wants to prove."

　　Levin had often noticed in discussions between the mostintelligent people that after enormous efforts, and an enormousexpenditure of logical subtleties and words, the disputantsfinally arrived at being aware that what they had so long beenstruggling to prove to one another had long ago, from thebeginning of the argument, been known to both, but that theyliked different things, and would not define what they liked forfear of its being attacked. He had often had the experience ofsuddenly in a discussion grasping what it was his opponent likedand at once liking it too, and immediately he found himselfagreeing, and then all arguments fell away as useless.Sometimes, too, he had experienced the opposite, expressing atlast what he liked himself, which he was devising arguments todefend, and, chancing to express it well and genuinely, he hadfound his opponent at once agreeing and ceasing to dispute hisposition. He tried to say this.

　　she knitted her brow, trying to understand. But directly hebegan to illustrate his meaning, she understood at once.

　　"I know: one must find out what he is arguing for, what isprecious to him, then one can..."

　　She had completely guessed and expressed his badly expressedidea. Levin smiled joyfully; he was struck by this transitionfrom the confused, verbose discussion with Pestsov and hisbrother to this laconic, clear, almost wordless communication ofthe most complex ideas.

　　Shtcherbatsky moved away from them, and Kitty, going up to acard table, sat down, and, taking up the chalk, began drawingdiverging circles over the new green cloth.

　　They began again on the subject that had been started at dinner--the liberty and occupations of women. Levin was of the opinionof Darya Alexandrovna that a girl who did not marry should find awoman's duties in a family. He supported this view by the factthat no family can get on without women to help; that in everyfamily, poor or rich, there are and must be nurses, eitherrelations or hired.

　　"No," said Kitty, blushing, but looking at him all the moreboldly with her truthful eyes; "a girl may be so circumstancedthat she cannot live in the family without humiliation, while sheherself..."

　　At the hint he understood her.

　　"Oh, yes," he said. "Yes, yes, yes--you're right; you're right!"

　　And he saw all that Pestsov had been maintaining at dinner of theliberty of woman, simply from getting a glimpse of the terror ofan old maid's existence and its humiliation in Kitty's heart; andloving her, he felt that terror and humiliation, and at once gaveup his arguments.

　　A silence followed. She was still drawing with the chalk on thetable. Her eyes were shining with a soft light. Under theinfluence of her mood he felt in all his being a continuallygrowing tension of happiness.

　　"Ah! I've scribbled all over the table!" she said, and layingdown the chalk, she made a movement as though to get up.

　　"What! shall I be left alone--without her?" he thought withhorror, and he took the chalk. "Wait a minute," he said, sittingdown to the table. "I've long wanted to ask you one thing."

　　He looked straight into her caressing, though frightened eyes.

　　"Please, ask it."

　　"Here," he said; and he wrote the initial letters, w, y, t, m, i,c, n, b, d, t, m, n, o, t. These letters meant, "When you toldme it could never be, did that mean never, or then?" Thereseemed no likelihood that she could make out this complicatedsentence; but he looked at her as though his life depended on herunderstanding the words. She glanced at him seriously, thenleaned her puckered brow on her hands and began to read. Once ortwice she stole a look at him, as though asking him, "Is it whatI think?"

　　"I understand," she said, flushing a little.

　　"What is this word?" he said, pointing to the n that stood fornever.

　　"It means never," she said; "but that's not true!"

　　He quickly rubbed out what he had written, gave her the chalk,and stood up. She wrote, t, i, c, n, a, d.

　　Dolly was completely comforted in the depression caused by herconversation with Alexey Alexandrovitch when she caught sight ofthe two figures: Kitty with the chalk in her hand, with a shy andhappy smile looking upwards at Levin, and his handsome figurebending over the table with glowing eyes fastened one minute onthe table and the next on her. He was suddenly radiant: he hadunderstood. It meant, "Then I could not answer differently."

　　He glanced at her questioningly, timidly.

　　"Only then?"

　　"Yes," her smile answered.

　　"And n...and now?" he asked.

　　"Well, read this. I'll tell you what I should like--should likeso much!" she wrote the initial letters, i, y, c, f, a, f, w, h.This meant, "If you could forget and forgive what happened."

　　He snatched the chalk with nervous, trembling fingers, andbreaking it, wrote the initial letters of the following phrase,"I have nothing to forget and to forgive; I have never ceased tolove you."

　　She glanced at him with a smile that did not waver.

　　"I understand," she said in a whisper.

　　He sat down and wrote a long phrase. She understood it all, andwithout asking him, "Is it this?" took the chalk and at onceanswered.

　　For a long while he could not understand what she had written,and often looked into her eyes. He was stupefied with happiness.He could not supply the word she had meant; but in her charmingeyes, beaming with happiness, he saw all he needed to know. Andhe wrote three letters. But he had hardly finished writing whenshe read them over her arm, and herself finished and wrote theanswer, "Yes."

　　"You're playing secretaire?" said the old prince. "But we mustreally be getting along if you want to be in time at thetheater."

　　Levin got up and escorted Kitty to the door.

　　In their conversation everything had been said; it had been saidthat she loved him, and that she would tell her father and motherthat he would come tomorrow morning.