ught by Levin, and found by him at the club, was
not the one who had been attending Nikolay Levin, as the patient
was dissatisfied with him. The new doctor took up a stethoscope
and sounded the patient, shook his head, prescribed medicine, and
with extreme minuteness explained first how to take the medicine
and then what diet was to be kept to. He advised eggs, raw or
hardly cooked, and seltzer water, with warm milk at a certain
temperature. When the doctor had gone away the sick man said
something to his brother, of which Levin could distinguish only
the last words: "Your Katya." By the expression with which he
gazed at her, Levin saw that he was praising her. He called
indeed to Katya, as he called her.

"I'm much better already," he said. "Why, with you I should have
got well long ago. How nice it is!" he took her hand and drew it
towards his lips, but as though afraid she would dislike it he
changed his mind, let it go, and only stroked it. Kitty took his
hand in both hers and pressed it.

"Now turn me over on the left side and go to bed," he said.

No one could make out what he said but Kitty; she alone
understood. She understood because she was all the while
mentally keeping watch on what he needed.

"On the other side," she said to her husband, "he always sleeps
on that side. Turn him over, it's so disagreeable calling the
servants. I'm not strong enough. Can you?" she said to Marya
Nikolaevna.

"I'm afraid not," answered Marya Nikolaevna.

Terrible as it was to Levin to put his arms round that terrible
body, to take hold of that under the quilt, of which he preferred
to know nothing, under his wife's influence he made his resolute
face that she knew so well, and putting his arms into the bed
took hold of the body, but in spite of his own strength he was
struck by the strange heaviness of those powerless limbs. While
he was turning him over, conscious of the huge emaciated arm
about his neck, Kitty swiftly and noiselessly turned the pillow,
beat it up and settled in it the sick man's head, smoothing back
his hair, which was sticking again to his moist brow.

The sick man kept his brother's hand in his own. Levin felt that
he meant to do something with his hand and was pulling it
somewhere. Levin yielded with a sinking heart: yes, he drew it
to his mouth and kissed it. Levin, shaking with sobs and unable
to articulate a word, went out of the room.

Chapter 19

"Thou hast hid thes