CHAPTER XVIII
Levin could not bear to look at his brother, could not even be himself and feel at ease in his presence. When he came into the sick man's room, his eyes and his motions entirely absorbed him, and he did not see and did not realize the details of his frightful situation.
He perceived the horrid odor, he saw the uncleanliness and disorder, he heard the sick man's groans, and it seemed to him that there was no way of helping it. It did not occur to him to investigate how the body lay under the coverlid; how the lean long legs, the thighs, the back, were doubled up and accommodated; nor did he ask whether he might not help him to lie more easily and do something to improve his condition, at least to make a bad situation less trying.
The mere thought of these details made a cold chill run down his back; he was undoubtedly persuaded in his own mind that it was impossible to do anything either to prolong his life or to lighten his sufferings, and the sick man, feeling instinctively that his brother was powerless to help him, was irritated. And this made it all the harder for Levin. To be in the sick-room was painful to him; to be away from it was still worse. And he kept leaving the room under various pretexts, and coming back again, for he was unable to stay alone by himself.
Kitty thought, felt, and acted in an entirely different way: as soon as she saw the sick man, she was filled with pity for him, and this pity in her womanly heart, instead of arousing a sense of fear or repulsion as it did in her husband's case, moved her to act, moved her to find out all the details of his condition and to ameliorate them. And as she had not the slightest doubt that it was her duty to help him, neither did she doubt the possibility of it, and she set herself to work without delay.
The details the mere thought of which repelled her husband were the very ones that attracted her attention.
