But it was not that Levin was not in good spirits; he was ill at ease.

With what he had in his soul, he felt sore and uncomfortable in the restaurant, in the midst of private rooms where men were dining with ladies, in all this fuss and bustle; the surroundings of bronzes, looking glasses, gas, and waiters--all of it was offensive to him.

He was afraid of sullying what his soul was brimful of.