Anna Karenina

himself, the more
breathless he found himself. An acquaintance met him and called him by
his name, but Levin did not even recognize him. He went toward the
mounds, whence came the clank of the chains of sleighs as they slipped
down or were dragged up, the rumble of the sliding sleighs and the
sounds of merry voices. He walked on a few steps, and the skating
ground lay open before him, and at once, amid all the skaters, he
recognized her.
He knew she was there by the rapture and the terror that seized
his heart. She was standing talking to a lady at the opposite end of
the ground. There was apparently nothing striking either in her
dress or her attitude, but for Levin she was as easy to find in that
crowd as a rose among nettles. Everything was made bright by her.
She was the smile that shed light on all around her. "Is it possible I
can go over there on the ice- approach her?" he thought. The place
where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there
was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he
with terror. He had to make an effort to master himself, and to remind
himself that people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he,
too, might have come there to skate. He descended, for a long while
avoiding looking at her as at the sun, yet seeing her, as one does the
sun, without looking.
On that day of the week, and at that time of day, people of one set,
all acquainted with one another, used to meet on the ice. There were
skillful skaters there, showing off their skill, and beginners
clinging to chairs with timid, awkward movements, and boys and elderly
people skating with hygienic motives. They seemed to Levin an elect
band of blissful beings because they were here, near her. All the
skaters, it seemed, with perfect self-possession, skated toward her,
skated by her, even spoke to her, and were happy, quite apart from
her, enjoying the capital ice and the fine weather.
{PART_ONE|CHAPTER_IX ^paragraph 5}
Nikolai Shcherbatsky, Kitty's cousin, in a short jacket and tight
trousers, was sitting on a bench with his skates on. Seeing Levin,
he shouted to him:
"Ah, the first skater in Russia! Been here long? First-rate ice-
do put your skates on."
"I haven't got my skates," Levin answered, marveling at this
boldness and ease in her presence, and not for one second losing sight
of her, though he did not look at her. He felt as though the sun
were coming near him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender
feet in their high boots, she, with obvious timidity, skated toward
him. A boy in Russian dress, desperately waving his arms and bending
down to the ground, overtook her. She skated a little uncertainly;
taking her hands out of the little muff that hung