Getting out of the trap and greeting his brother and Katavasov, Levin asked about his wife.
“She has taken Mitya to Kolok” (a copse near the house). “She meant to have him out there because it’s so hot indoors,” said Dolly. Levin had always advised his wife not to take the baby to the wood, thinking it unsafe, and he was not pleased to hear this.
“She rushes about from place to place with him,” said the prince, smiling. “I advised her to try putting him in the ice cellar.”
“She meant to come to the bee-house. She thought you would be there. We are going there,” said Dolly.
“Well, and what are you doing?” said Sergey Ivanovitch, falling back from the rest and walking beside him.
“Oh, nothing special. Busy as usual with the land,” answered Levin. “Well, and what about you? Come for long? We have been expecting you for such a long time.”
“Only for a fortnight. I’ve a great deal to do in Moscow.”
At these words the brothers’ eyes met, and Levin, in spite of the desire he always had, stronger than ever just now, to be on affectionate and still more open terms with his brother, felt an awkwardness in looking at him. He dropped his eyes and did not know what to say.
Casting over the subjects of conversation that would be pleasant to Sergey Ivanovitch, and would keep him off the subject of the Servian war and the Slavonic question, at which he had hinted by the allusion to what he had to do in Moscow, Levin began to talk of Sergey Ivanovitch’s book.
“Well, have there been reviews of your book?” he asked.