“I assume that a salary is the price paid for a commodity, and it ought to conform with the law of supply and demand.  If the salary is fixed without any regard for that law, as, for instance, when I see two engineers leaving college together, both equally well trained and efficient, and one getting forty thousand while the other is satisfied with two; or when I see lawyers and hussars, having no special qualifications, appointed directors of banking companies with immense salaries, I conclude that the salary is not fixed in accordance with the law of supply and demand, but simply through personal interest.  And this is an abuse of great gravity in itself, and one that reacts injuriously on the government service.  I consider…”Stepan Arkadyevitch made haste to interrupt his brother-in-law.”Yes; but you must agree that it’s a new institution of undoubted utility that’s being started.  After all, you know, it’s a growing thing!  What they lay particular stress on is the thing being carried on honestly,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch with emphasis.But the Moscow significance of the word “honest” was lost on Alexey Alexandrovitch.  Karenin, Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina  

All he knew and felt was that what was happening was what had happened nearly a year before in the hotel of the country town at the deathbed of his brother Nikolay.  But that had been grief– this was joy.  Yet that grief and this joy were alike outside all the ordinary conditions of life; they were loop-holes, as it were, in that ordinary life through which there came glimpses of something sublime.  And in the contemplation of this sublime something the soul was exalted to inconceivable heights of which it had before had no conception, while reason lagged behind, unable to keep up with it.”Lord, have mercy on us, and succor us!” he repeated to himself incessantly, feeling, in spite of his long and, as it seemed, complete alienation from religion, that he turned to God just as trustfully and simply as he had in his childhood and first youth. Levin, Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina 

At the concert in the afternoon two very interesting things were performed.  One was a fantasia, _King Lear;_ the other was a quartette dedicated to the memory of Bach.  Both were new and in the new style, and Levin was eager to form an opinion of them. After escorting his sister-in-law to her stall, he stood against a column and tried to listen as attentively and conscientiously as possible.  He tried not to let his attention be distracted, and not to spoil his impression by looking at the conductor in a white tie, waving his arms, which always disturbed his enjoyment of music so much, or the ladies in bonnets, with strings carefully tied over their ears, and all these people either thinking of nothing at all or thinking of all sorts of things except the music.  He tried to avoid meeting musical connoisseurs or talkative acquaintances, and stood looking at the floor straight before him, listening.But the more he listened to the fantasia of King Lear the further he felt from forming any definite opinion of it.  There was, as it were, a continual beginning, a preparation of the musical expression of some feeling, but it fell to pieces again directly, breaking into new musical motives, or simply nothing but the whims of the composer, exceedingly complex but disconnected sounds.  And these fragmentary musical expressions, though sometimes beautiful, were disagreeable, because they were utterly unexpected and not led up to by anything.  Gaiety and grief and despair and tenderness and triumph followed one another without any connection, like the emotions of a madman.  And those emotions, like a madman’s, sprang up quite unexpectedly.During the whole of the performance Levin felt like a deaf man watching people dancing, and was in a state of complete bewilderment when the fantasia was over, and felt a great weariness from the fruitless strain on his attention.  Loud applause resounded on all sides.  Everyone got up, moved about, and began talking.  Anxious to throw some light on his own perplexity from the impressions of others, Levin began to walk about, looking for connoisseurs, and was glad to see a well-known musical amateur in conversation with Pestsov, whom he knew.”Marvelous!” Pestsov was saying in his mellow bass.  ”How are you, Konstantin Dmitrievitch?  Particularly sculpturesque and plastic, so to say, and richly colored is that passage where you feel Cordelia’s approach, where woman, _das ewig Weibliche,_ enters into conflict with fate.  Isn’t it?”"You mean…what has Cordelia to do with it?” Levin asked timidly, forgetting that the fantasia was supposed to represent King Lear.”Cordelia comes in…see here!” said Pestsov, tapping his finger on the satiny surface of the program he held in his hand and passing it to Levin.Only then Levin recollected the title of the fantasia, and made haste to read in the Russian translation the lines from Shakespeare that were printed on the back of the program.”You can’t follow it without that,” said Pestsov, addressing Levin, as the person he had been speaking to had gone away, and he had no one to talk to.In the _entr’acte_ Levin and Pestsov fell into an argument upon the merits and defects of music of the Wagner school.  Levin maintained that the mistake of Wagner and all his followers lay in their trying to take music into the sphere of another art, just as poetry goes wrong when it tries to paint a face as the art of painting ought to do, and as an instance of this mistake he cited the sculptor who carved in marble certain poetic phantasms flitting round the figure of the poet on the pedestal. “These phantoms were so far from being phantoms that they were positively clinging on the ladder,” said Levin.  The comparison pleased him, but he could not remember whether he had not used the same phrase before, and to Pestsov, too, and as he said it he felt confused.Pestsov maintained that art is one, and that it can attain its highest manifestations only by conjunction with all kinds of art.The second piece that was performed Levin could not hear. Pestsov, who was standing beside him, was talking to him almost all the time, condemning the music for its excessive affected assumption of simplicity, and comparing it with the simplicity of the Pre-Raphaelites in painting.  As he went out Levin met many more acquaintances, with whom he talked of politics, of music, and of common acquaintances.  Among others he met Count Bol, whom he had utterly forgotten to call upon. Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina 

One event, an event of great importance to both from that point of view, did indeed happen–that was Kitty’s meeting with Vronsky.The old Princess Marya Borissovna, Kitty’s godmother, who had always been very fond of her, had insisted on seeing her.  Kitty, though she did not go into society at all on account of her condition, went with her father to see the venerable old lady, and there met Vronsky.The only thing Kitty could reproach herself for at this meeting was that at the instant when she recognized in his civilian dress the features once so familiar to her, her breath failed her, the blood rushed to her heart, and a vivid blush–she felt it– overspread her face.  But this lasted only a few seconds.  Before her father, who purposely began talking in a loud voice to Vronsky, had finished, she was perfectly ready to look at Vronsky, to speak to him, if necessary, exactly as she spoke to Princess Marya Borissovna, and more than that, to do so in such a way that everything to the faintest intonation and smile would have been approved by her husband, whose unseen presence she seemed to feel about her at that instant.She said a few words to him, even smiled serenely at his joke about the elections, which he called “our parliament.” (She had to smile to show she saw the joke.) But she turned away immediately to Princess Marya Borissovna, and did not once glance at him till he got up to go; then she looked at him, but evidently only because it would be uncivil not to look at a man when he is saying good-bye.She was grateful to her father for saying nothing to her about their meeting Vronsky, but she saw by his special warmth to her after the visit during their usual walk that he was pleased with her.  She was pleased with herself.  She had not expected she would have had the power, while keeping somewhere in the bottom of her heart all the memories of her old feeling for Vronsky, not only to seem but to be perfectly indifferent and composed with him.Levin flushed a great deal more than she when she told him she had met Vronsky at Princess Marya Borissovna’s.  It was very hard for her to tell him this, but still harder to go on speaking of the details of the meeting, as he did not question her, but simply gazed at her with a frown.”I am very sorry you weren’t there,” she said.  ”Not that you weren’t in the room…I couldn’t have been so natural in your presence…I am blushing now much more, much, much more,” she said, blushing till the tears came into her eyes.  ”But that you couldn’t see through a crack.”The truthful eyes told Levin that she was satisfied with herself, and in spite of her blushing he was quickly reassured and began questioning her, which was all she wanted.  When he had heard everything, even to the detail that for the first second she could not help flushing, but that afterwards she was just as direct and as much at her ease as with any chance acquaintance, Levin was quite happy again and said he was glad of it, and would not now behave as stupidly as he had done at the election, but would try the first time he met Vronsky to be as friendly as possible.”It’s so wretched to feel that there’s a man almost an enemy whom it’s painful to meet,” said Levin.  ”I’m very, very glad.” Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina