Three days after his brother's departure, Levin too set off for
his foreign tour. Happening to meet Shtcherbatsky, Kitty's
cousin, in the railway train, Levin greatly astonished him by his
depression.
"What's the matter with you?" Shtcherbatsky asked him.
"Oh, nothing; there's not much happiness in life."
"Not much? You come with me to Paris instead of to Mulhausen.
You shall see how to be happy."
"No, I've done with it all. It's time I was dead."
"Well, that's a good one!" said Shtcherbatsky, laughing; "why,
I'm only just getting ready to begin."
"Yes, I thought the same not long ago, but now I know I shall
soon be dead."
Levin said what he had genuinely been thinking of late. He saw
nothing but death or the advance towards death in everything.
But his cherished scheme only engrossed him the more. Life had
to be got through somehow till death did come. Darkness had
fallen upon everything for him; but just because of this darkness
he felt that the one guiding clue in the darkness was his work,
and he clutched it and clung to it with all his strength.