Anna Karenina

The conversation never flagged for a minute, so that the old princess, who, in case a topic was lacking, always kept two heavy cannon in reserve - classical versus modern education, and general military conscription - did not have to move them up, and Countess Nordston had no chance to tease Levin.

Levin wanted but was unable to enter into the general conversation; saying ‘Go now’ to himself every minute, he did not leave, but kept waiting for something.

The conversation moved on to table-turning and spirits,²⁷ and Countess Nordston, who believed in spiritualism, began telling about the wonders she had seen.

‘Ah, Countess, you must take me, for God’s sake, take me to them! I’ve never seen anything extraordinary, though I keep looking everywhere,’ Vronsky said, smiling.

‘Very well, next Saturday,’ Countess Nordston replied. ‘But you, Konstantin Dmitrich, do you believe in it?’ she asked Levin.

‘Why do you ask me? You know what I’m going to say.’

‘But I want to hear your opinion.’

‘My opinion,’ answered Levin, ‘is simply that these turning tables prove that our so-called educated society is no higher than the muzhiks. They believe in the evil eye, and wicked spells, and love potions, while we ...’

‘So, then, you don’t believe in it?’

‘I cannot believe, Countess.’

‘But if I saw it myself?’

‘Peasant women also tell of seeing household goblins themselves.’

‘So you think I’m not telling the truth?’

And she laughed mirthlessly.

‘No, Masha, Konstantin Dmitrich says he cannot believe in it,’ said Kitty, blushing for Levin, and Levin understood it and, still more annoyed, was about to reply, but Vronsky, with his frank, cheerful smile, at once came to the rescue of the conversation, which was threatening to turn unpleasant.

‘You don’t admit any possibility at all?’ he asked. ‘Why not? We admit the existence of electricity, which we know nothing about; why can’t there be a new force, still unknown to us, which ...’

‘When electricity was found,’ Levin quickly interrupted, ‘it was merely the discovery of a phenomenon, and it was not known where it came from or what it could do, and centuries passed before people thought of using it. The spiritualists, on the contrary, began by saying that tables write to them and spirits come to them, and only afterwards started saying it was an unknown force.’

Vronsky listened attentively to Levin, as he always listened, evidently interested in his words.

‘Yes, but the spiritualists say: now we don’t know what this force is, but the force exists, and these are the conditions under which it acts. Let the scientists find out what constitutes this force. No, I don’t see why it can’t be a new force, if it ...’

‘Because,’ Levin interrupted again, ‘with electricity, each time you rub resin against wool, a certain phenomenon manifests itself, while here it’s not each time, and therefore it’s not a natural phenomenon.’

Probably feeling that the conversation was acquiring too serious a character for a drawing room, Vronsky did not object, but, trying to change the subject, smiled cheerfully and turned to the ladies.

‘Let’s try it now, Countess,’ he began. But Levin wanted to finish saying what he thought.

‘I think,’ he continued, ‘that this attempt by the spiritualists to explain their wonders by some new force is a most unfortunate one. They speak directly about spiritual force and want to subject it to material experiment.’

They were all waiting for him to finish, and he felt it.

‘And I think that you’d make an excellent medium,’ said Countess Nordston, ‘there’s something ecstatic in you.’

Levin opened his mouth, wanted to say something, turned red, and said nothing.

‘Let’s try the tables now, Princess, if you please,’ said Vronsky. ‘With your permission, Madame?’ He turned to the old princess.

And Vronsky stood up, his eyes searching for a table.

Kitty got up from her little table and, as she passed by, her eyes met Levin’s. She pitied him with all her heart, the more so as she was the cause of his unhappiness. ‘If I can be forgiven, forgive me,’ her eyes said, ‘I’m so happy.’

‘I hate everybody, including you and myself,’ his eyes answered, and he picked up his hat. But he was not fated to leave yet. They were just settling around the little table, and Levin was on the point of leaving, when the old prince came in and, after greeting the ladies, turned to him.

‘Ah!’ he began joyfully. ‘Been here long? And I didn’t know you were here. Very glad to see you, sir.’

The old prince sometimes addressed Levin formally, sometimes informally. He embraced Levin, talking to him and not noticing Vronsky, who rose and waited calmly for the prince to turn to him.

Kitty sensed that, after what had happened, her father’s cordiality would be oppressive for Levin. She also saw how coldly her father finally responded to Vronsky’s bow and how Vronsky looked at her father with friendly perplexity, trying but failing to understand how and why it was possible to have an unfriendly attitude towards him, and she blushed.