صفحة 698 من 2288

Suddenly, in the midst of his toil, without understanding what it

was or whence it came, he felt a pleasant sensation of chill on

his hot, moist shoulders. He glanced at the sky in the interval

for whetting the scythes. A heavy, lowering storm cloud had blown

up, and big raindrops were falling. Some of the peasants went to

their coats and put them on; others-just like Levin

himself-merely shrugged their shoulders, enjoying the pleasant

coolness of it.