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 the landing, and on the upper floor recognized the third Swiss in his club livery, who, having grown older, displayed neither dilatoriness nor haste in opening the door for him, he once more felt the old-time impression of the club—the atmosphere of comfort, ease, and good- breeding.

"Your hat, if you please," said the Swiss to Levin, who had forgotten the rule of the club to leave hats at the cloak-room.

"It's a long time since you were here," said the Swiss. "The prince wrote to you yesterday. Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch has not come yet."

The Swiss knew not only Levin, but all his connec- tions and family, and took pleasure in reminding him of his relationships.

Passing through the first connecting "hall" and the conversation-room at the right where the fruit-dealer sits, Levin, who walked faster than the old attendant, entered the dining-room, which was filled with a noisy throng. He made his way along by the tables, almost all of which were occupied. As he looked about him on all sides, he saw men of the most heterogeneous types, old and young, most of them acquaintances and many of them friends. It seemed as if all of them had left their cares and worries with their hats in the cloak-room, and had collected together to make the most of the material advantages of life. There were Sviazhsky and Shcherbatsky and Nevyedovsky and the old prince and Vronsky and Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"Ah, why are you late?" said the prince, with a smile, extending his hand to his son-in-law over his shoulder. "How is Kitty?" added he, putting a corner of his napkin into the button-hole of his waistcoat.

"She is well, and is dining with her sisters."

"Ah! the old gossips! Well, there's no room with us. Go to that table there and get a seat as quickly as you can...." said the prince, taking with care a plate of ukha, or soup made of lotes.

"Here, Levin," cried a jovial voice from a table a little farther away.