Анна Каренина

Chapter 13

           

           “Youcan’tgetacrossthestreams,KonstantinDmitrievitch,”thecoachmanshouted.

           “Allright,I’llgobytheforest.”

           AndLevinrodethroughtheslushofthefarmyardtothegateandoutintotheopencountry,hisgoodlittlehorse,afterhislonginactivity,steppingoutgallantly,snortingoverthepools,andasking,asitwere,forguidance.IfLevinhadfelthappybeforeinthecattlepensandfarmyard,hefelthappieryetintheopencountry.Swayingrhythmicallywiththeamblingpacesofhisgoodlittlecob,drinkinginthewarmyetfreshscentofthesnowandtheair,asherodethroughhisforestoverthecrumbling,wastedsnow,stillleftinparts,andcoveredwithdissolvingtracks,herejoicedovereverytree,withthemossrevivingonitsbarkandthebudsswellingonitsshoots.Whenhecameoutoftheforest,intheimmenseplainbeforehim,hisgrassfieldsstretchedinanunbrokencarpetofgreen,withoutonebareplaceorswamp,onlyspottedhereandthereinthehollowswithpatchesofmeltingsnow.Hewasnotputoutoftemperevenbythesightofthepeasants’horsesandcoltstramplingdownhisyounggrass(hetoldapeasanthemettodrivethemout),norbythesarcasticandstupidreplyofthepeasantIpat,whomhemetontheway,andasked,“Well,Ipat,shallwesoonbesowing?”“Wemustgettheploughingdonefirst,KonstantinDmitrievitch,”answeredIpat.

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