as he loved her face, well as he knew her expression, her eyes, yet never before had he seen her look as she did then. How ugly and horrible did he now seem as he saw her now, and remembered the mortification which he had caused her the evening before! Her flushed face, with the clustering soft curls escaping from under her nightcap, was radiant with joy and resolution.
Natural and simple as Kitty's character in general was, Levin was amazed by what unfolded itself before him now, when suddenly all the curtains were withdrawn, and the very essence of her soul shone in her eyes. And in this simplicity and revelation, she, her very self, whom he loved, was more apparent than ever. She looked at him, and smiled. But suddenly her brows contracted, she lifted her head, and, coming to him, took his hand, and clung to him, sighing painfully. She suffered, and yet she seemed to pity him for her sufferings. At first, as he saw this silent suffering, it seemed to him that he was to blame for it. But in her look there was tenderness which told him that she not only did not blame him, but that she loved him all the more for her suffering.
"If not I, who, then, is to blame for this?" he asked himself. She suffered, and she seemed to take pride in her pain, and to rejoice in it. He saw that in her soul some beautiful transformation was taking place; but what? he could not understand. It was above his comprehension.
"I have sent for mamma. Now go quick, and get Lizavyeta Petrovna.... Kostia.... it 's nothing.... it is all over."
She went to the other side of the room, and rang the bell.
"There, now, please go. Pasha is coming; I want nothing." And Levin, with astonishment, saw her take up her work again.
As he went out of one door, he heard Pasha, the maid, come in at the other. He paused on the threshold and listened as Kitty gave directions for arranging the room, and as she herself began to move the bed.
