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Levin was not a disreputable chum, but Oblonsky, with his ready

tact, felt that Levin fancied he might not care to show his

intimacy with him before his subordinates, and so he made haste

to take him off into his room.

Levin was almost of the same age as Oblonsky; their intimacy did

not rest merely on champagne. Levin had been the friend and

companion of his early youth. They were fond of one another in

spite of the difference of their characters and tastes, as

friends are fond of one another who have been together in early

youth. But in spite of this, each of them-as is often the way

with men who have selected careers of different kinds-though in

discussion he would even justify the other's career, in his heart

despised it. It seemed to each of them that the life he led

himself was the only real life, and the life led by his friend

was a mere phantasm. Oblonsky could not restrain a slight mocking

smile at the sight of Levin. How often he had seen him come up to

Moscow from the country where he was doing something, but what

precisely Stepan Arkadyevitch could never quite make out, and

indeed he took no interest in the matter.