Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
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?"
"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
"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
"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.
"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!"
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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