Anna Karenina

Serving for the third year as head of one of the Moscow offices, Stepan Arkadyich had acquired the respect as well as the affection of his colleagues, subordinates, superiors, and all who had dealings with him. The main qualities that had earned him this universal respect in the service were, first, an extreme indulgence towards people, based on his awareness of his own shortcomings; second, a perfect liberalism, not the sort he read about in the newspapers, but the sort he had in his blood, which made him treat all people, whatever their rank or status, in a perfectly equal and identical way; and, third - most important - a perfect indifference to the business he was occupied with, owing to which he never got carried away and never made mistakes.

Arriving at his place of work, Stepan Arkadyich, accompanied by the respectful doorman, went with a portfolio into his small private office, put on his uniform, and entered the main office. The scriveners and clerks all rose, bowing cheerfully and respectfully. Stepan Arkadyich, hastily as always, went to his place, exchanged handshakes with the members and sat down. He joked and talked exactly as much as was proper and then got down to work. No one knew more surely than Stepan Arkadyich how to find the limits of freedom, simplicity and officialness necessary for getting work done in a pleasant way. The secretary, cheerful and respectful as was everyone in Stepan Arkadyich’s presence, approached with some papers and said in that familiarly liberal tone which had been introduced by Stepan Arkadyich:

‘We did after all obtain information from the Penza provincial office. Here, if you please ...’

‘So you finally got it?’ said Stepan Arkadyich, marking the page with his finger. ‘Well, gentlemen ...’ And the work began.

‘If they only knew,’ he thought, inclining his head gravely as he listened to the report, ‘what a guilty boy their chairman was half an hour ago!’ And his eyes were laughing as the report was read. The work had to go on without interruption till two o‘clock, and then there would be a break for lunch.

It was not yet two when the big glass door of the office suddenly opened and someone came in. All the members, from under the imperial portrait and behind the zertsalo,⁸ turned towards the door, glad of the diversion; but the porter at once banished the intruder and closed the glass door behind him.

When the case had been read, Stepan Arkadyich stood up, stretched, and, giving the liberalism of the time its due, took out a cigarette while still in the room, then went into his private office. His two comrades, the veteran Nikitin and the kammerjunker⁹ Grinevich, followed him out.

‘We’ll have time to finish after lunch,’ said Stepan Arkadyich.

‘That we will!’ said Nikitin.

‘And he must be a regular crook, this Fomin,’ Grinevich said of one of the people involved in the case they were considering.

Stepan Arkadyich winced at Grinevich’s words, thereby letting it be felt that it was inappropriate to form a premature judgement, and did not reply to him.

‘Who was it that came in?’ he asked the porter.

‘Some man, your excellency, slipped in the moment I turned my back. He asked for you. I said when the members leave, then ...’

‘Where is he?’

‘Went out to the front hall most likely, and before that he kept pacing around here. That’s the one,’ the porter said, pointing to a strongly built, broad-shouldered man with a curly beard, who, without taking off his lamb-skin hat, was quickly and lightly running up the worn steps of the stone stairway. One skinny clerk going down with a portfolio paused, looked disapprovingly at the running man’s feet, and then glanced questioningly at Oblonsky.

Stepan Arkadyich stood at the top of the stairs. His face, beaming good-naturedly from behind the embroidered uniform collar, beamed still more when he recognized the man who was running up.

‘So it’s he! Levin, at last!’ he said with a friendly, mocking smile, looking Levin over as he approached. ‘How is it you don’t scorn to come looking for me in this den?’ said Stepan Arkadyich, not satisfied with a handshake, but kissing his friend. ‘Been here long?’

‘I just arrived, and wanted very much to see you,’ Levin replied, looking around bashfully and at the same time crossly and uneasily.

‘Well, let’s go to my office,’ said Stepan Arkadyich, knowing his friend’s proud and irascible shyness; and, taking him by the arm, he drew him along, as if guiding him through dangers.