"Akh, countess! in the name of Heaven, take me to see them. I never yet saw anything extraordinary, anxious as I have always been," said Vronsky, smiling.
"Good; next Saturday," replied the countess. "But you, Konstantin Dmitritch, do you believe in it?" she asked of Levin.
"Why do you ask me? You know perfectly well what I shall say."
"Because I wanted to hear your opinion."
"My opinion is simply this," replied Levin: "that table-tipping proves that so-called cultivated society is scarcely more advanced than the muzhiks; they believe in the evil eye, in casting lots, in sorceries, while we .... "
"That means that you don't believe in it?"
"I cannot believe in it, countess."
"But if I myself have seen these things?"
"The peasant women also say that they have seen the Domovoï.[1]
"Then, you think that I do not tell the truth?"
And she broke into an unpleasant laugh.
"But no, Masha. Konstantin Dmitritch simply says that he cannot believe in spiritism," said Kitty, blushing for Levin; and Levin understood her, and, growing still more irritated, was about to reply; but Vronsky instantly came to the rescue, and with a gentle smile brought back the conversation, which threatened to go beyond the bounds of politeness.
"Do not you admit at all the possibility of its being true?" he asked. "Why not? We willingly admit the existence of electricity, which we do not understand. Why should there not exist a new force, as yet unknown, which .... "
"When electricity was discovered," interrupted Levin, eagerly, "only its phenomena had been seen, and it was not known what produced them, or whence they arose; and centuries passed before people dreamed of making application of it. Spiritualists, on the other hand, have
- ↑ The Domovoï is the house-spirit, like the latin lar, who lives behind the stove, and when propitiated by cream and colored eggs is beneficent, but if offended may play disagreeable tricks.—Tr.
