“I have ordered the horses to be put-to for you.”

“How so?” Vassenka began in surprise. “To drive where?”

“For you to drive to the station,” Levin said gloomily.

“Are you going away, or has something happened?”

“It happens that I expect visitors,” said Levin, his strong fingers more and more rapidly breaking off the ends of the split stick. “And I’m not expecting visitors, and nothing has happened, but I beg you to go away. You can explain my rudeness as you like.”

Vassenka drew himself up.

“I beg you to explain...” he said with dignity, understanding at last.