`I ought to have done so long ago, if at all.'

`It's not well to look ridiculous.... Wait a bit! It will come round.'

The point was that when Levin asked for his evening suit, Kouzma, his old servant, had brought him the coat, waistcoat, and everything that was wanted.

`But the shirt!' cried Levin.

`You've got a shirt on,' Kouzma answered, with a placid smile.

Kouzma had not thought of leaving out a clean shirt, and on receiving instructions to pack up everything and send it round to the Shcherbatskys' house, from which the young people were to set out the same evening, he had done so, packing everything but the dress suit. The shirt worn since the morning was crumpled and out of the question with the fashionable open waistcoat. It was a long way to send to the Shcherbatskys'. They sent out to buy a shirt. The servant came back; everything was shut up - it was Sunday. They sent to Stepan Arkadyevich's and brought a shirt - it was impossibly wide and short. They sent finally to the Shcherbatskys' to unpack the things. The bridegroom was expected at the church while he was pacing up and down his room like a wild beast in a cage, peeping out into the corridor, and with horror and despair recalling what absurd things he had said to Kitty and what she might be thinking now.

At last the guilty Kouzma flew panting into the room with the shirt.

`Only just in time. They were just lifting it into the van,' said Kouzma.

Three minutes later Levin ran full speed into the corridor, without looking at his watch for fear of aggravating his sufferings.

`You won't help matters like that,' said Stepan Arkadyevich with a smile, hurrying with more deliberation after him. `It will come round, it will come round - I tell you.'