old the last good
story from Petersburg, and the story, though improper and stupid,
was so ludicrous that Levin broke into roars of laughter so loud
that those near looked round.

"That's in the same style as, 'that's a thing I can't endure!'
You know the story?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Ah, that's
exquisite! Another bottle," he said to the waiter, and he began
to relate his good story.

"Pyotr Illyitch Vinovsky invites you to drink with him," a little
old waiter interrupted Stepan Arkadyevitch, bringing two delicate
glasses of sparkling champagne, and addressing Stepan
Arkadyevitch and Levin. Stepan Arkadyevitch took the glass, and
looking towards a bald man with red mustaches at the other end of
the table, he nodded to him, smiling.

"Who's that?" asked Levin.

"You met him once at my place, don't you remember? A
good-natured fellow."

Levin did the same as Stepan Arkadyevitch and took the glass.

Stepan Arkadyevitch's anecdote too was very amusing. Levin told
his story, and that too was successful. Then they talked of
horses, of the races, of what they had been doing that day, and
of how smartly Vronsky's Atlas had won the first prize. Levin
did not notice how the time passed at dinner.

"Ah! and here they are!" Stepan Arkadyevitch said towards the end
of dinner, leaning over the back of his chair and holding out his
hand to Vronsky, who came up with a tall officer of the Guards.
Vronsky's face too beamed with the look of good-humored enjoyment
that was general in the club. He propped his elbow playfully on
Stepan Arkadyevitch's shoulder, whispering something to him, and
he held out his hand to Levin with the same good-humored smile.

"Very glad to meet you," he said. "I looked out for you at the
election, but I was told you had gone away."

"Yes, I left the same day. We've just been talking of your
horse. I congratulate you," said Levin. "It was very rapidly
run."

"Yes; you've race horses too, haven't you?"

"No, my father had; but I remember and know something about it."

"Where have you dined?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"We were at the second table, behind the columns."

"We've been celebrating his success," said the tall colonel.
"It's his second Imperial prize. I wish I might have the luck at
cards he has with horses. Well, why waste the precious time?
I'm going to the 'infernal regions,'" added the colonel, and he
walked away.

"That's Yashvin," Vronsky said in answer to