"There, now, let papa look," said Lizavyeta Petrovna, taking up and exhibiting something red, strange, and wobbling. "Wait, we must change it first," and Lizavyeta Petrovna deposited this red and wobbling something on the bed, and proceeded to unswathe it and then swathe it again, lifting and turning it over with one finger, and shaking some kind of powder over it.
Levin, as he looked at the poor little bit of humanity, tried in vain to discover within his soul some paternal sentiments toward it. His only feeling was one of repulsion; but when they took off its things, and he saw its little tiny delicate arms and legs, still saffron-colored, and its still tinier fingers, and even a thumb differentiated from the others, and when he saw Lizavyeta Petrovna handling its little, waving arms, just as if they were delicate springs, and putting them into linen garments, such pity seized him, and such terror lest she should hurt it, that he made a gesture to stop her.
Lizavyeta Petrovna laughed.
"Never fear, never fear," she said.
When the child was dressed, and metamorphosed into a regular doll, Lizavyeta Petrovna tossed him up and down, as if proud of her work, and held him off so that Levin might see his son in all his beauty.
Kitty, not taking her eyes from him, was alarmed.
"Give him to me, give him to me," she cried; and she even lifted herself up.
"But, Katerina Aleksandrovna, you must know that any such motions are forbidden. Be patient; I will give him to you. But we must let papasha see what a fine young man we are."
And Lizavyeta Petrovna handed to Levin with one hand—the other supported the limp occiput—this strange, weak, red creature, whose head fell limply on its swaddling-clothes. All that was to be seen of it was a nose, a pair of eyes that looked in two directions, and smacking lips.
"Prekrasnui rebyonok—a splendid baby," said Lizavyeta Petrovna.
Levin drew a deep breath of mortification. This
