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were at once aware that he was not only going there. Petritsky, still humming, winked and made a pout with his lips, as though he would say: "Oh, yes, we know your Bryansky." "Mind youre not late!" was Yashvins only comment; and to change the conversation: "Hows my roan? is he doing all right?" he inquired, looking out of the window at the middle one of the three horses, which he had sold Vronsky. "Stop!" cried Petritsky to Vronsky as he was just going out. "Your brother left a letter and a note for you. Wait a bit; where are they?" Vronsky stopped. "Well, where are they?" "Where are they? Thats just the question!" said Petritsky solemnly, moving his forefinger upwards from his nose. "Come, tell me; this is silly!" said Vronsky smiling. "I have not lighted the fire. Here somewhere about." "Come, enough fooling! Where is the letter?" "No, Ive forgotten really. Or was it a dream? Wait a bit, wait a bit! But whats the use of getting in a rage. If youd drunk four bottles yesterday as I did youd forget where you were lying. Wait a bit, Ill remember!" Petritsky went behind the partition and lay down on his bed. "Wait a bit! This was how I was lying, and this was how he was standing. Yes--yes--yes.... Here it is!"--and Petritsky pulled a letter out from under the mattress, where he had hidden it. Vronsky took the letter and his brothers note. It was the letter he was expecting--from his mother, reproaching him for not having been to see her--and the note was from his brother to say that he must have a little talk with him. Vronsky knew that it was all about the same thing. "What business is it of theirs!" thought Vronsky, and crumpling up the letters he thrust them between the buttons of his coat so as to read them carefully on the road. In the porch of the hut he was met by two officers; one of his regiment and one of another. Vronskys quarters were always a meeting place for all the officers. "Where are you off to?" "I must go to Peterhof." "Has the mare come from Tsarskoe?" "Yes, but Ive not seen her yet." "They say Mahotins Gladiators lame." "Nonsense! But however are you going to race in this mud?" said the other. "Here are my saviors!" cried Petritsky, seeing them come in. Before him stood the orderly with a tray of brandy and salted cucumbers. "Heres Yashvin ordering me to drink a pick-me-up." "Well, you did give it to us yesterday," said one of those who had come in; "you didnt let us get a wink of sleep all night." "Oh, didnt we make a pretty finish!" said Petritsky. "Volkov climbed onto the roof and began telling us how sad he was. I said: Lets have music, the funeral march! He fairly dropped asleep on the roof over the funeral march." "Drink it up; you positively must drink the brandy, and then seltzer water and a lot of lemon," said Yashvin, standing over Petritsky like a mother making a child take medicine, "and then a little champagne--just a small bottle." "Come, theres some sense in that. Stop a bit, Vronsky. Well all have a drink." "No; good-bye all of you. Im not going to drink today." "Why, are you gaining weight? All right, then we must have it alone. Give us the seltzer water and lemon." "Vronsky!" shouted someone when he was already outside. "Well?" "Youd better get your hair cut, itll weigh you down, especially at the top." Vronsky was in fact beginning, prematurely, to get a little bald. He laughed gaily, showing his even teeth, and pulling his cap over the thin place, went out and got into his carriage. "To the stables!" he said, and was just pulling out the letters to read them through, but he thought better of it, and put off reading them so as not to distract his attention before looking at the mare. "Later!" Chapter 21 The temporary stable, a wooden shed, had been put up close to the race course, and there his mare was to have been taken the previous day. He had not yet seen her there. During the last few days he had not ridden her out for exercise himself, but had put her in the charge of the trainer, and so now he positively did not know in what condition his mare had arrived yesterday and was

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