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to the volunteers. "In the service of religion, humanity, and our brothers," the gentleman said, his voice growing louder and louder; "to this great cause mother Moscow dedicates you with her blessing. _Jivio!_" he concluded, loudly and tearfully. Everyone shouted _Jivio!_ and a fresh crowd dashed into the hall, almost carrying the princess off her legs. "Ah, princess! that was something like!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, suddenly appearing in the middle of the crowd and beaming upon them with a delighted smile. "Capitally, warmly said, wasnt it? Bravo! And Sergey Ivanovitch! Why, you ought to have said something--just a few words, you know, to encourage them; you do that so well," he added with a soft, respectful, and discreet smile, moving Sergey Ivanovitch forward a little by the arm. "No, Im just off." "Where to?" "To the country, to my brothers," answered Sergey Ivanovitch. "Then youll see my wife. Ive written to her, but youll see her first. Please tell her that theyve seen me and that its all right, as the English say. Shell understand. Oh, and be so good as to tell her Im appointed secretary of the committee.... But shell understand! You know, _les petites miseres de la vie humaine,_" he said, as it were apologizing to the princess. "And Princess Myakaya--not Liza, but Bibish--is sending a thousand guns and twelve nurses. Did I tell you?" "Yes, I heard so," answered Koznishev indifferently. "Its a pity youre going away," said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Tomorrow were giving a dinner to two whore setting off-- Dimer-Bartnyansky from Petersburg and our Veslovsky, Grisha. Theyre both going. Veslovskys only lately married. Theres a fine fellow for you! Eh, princess?" he turned to the lady. The princess looked at Koznishev without replying. But the fact that Sergey Ivanovitch and the princess seemed anxious to get rid of him did not in the least disconcert Stepan Arkadyevitch. Smiling, he stared at the feather in the princesss hat, and then about him as though he were going to pick something up. Seeing a lady approaching with a collecting box, he beckoned her up and put in a five-rouble note. "I can never see these collecting boxes unmoved while Ive money in my pocket," he said. "And how about todays telegram? Fine chaps those Montenegrins!" "You dont say so!" he cried, when the princess told him that Vronsky was going by this train. For an instant Stepan Arkadyevitchs face looked sad, but a minute later, when, stroking his mustaches and swinging as he walked, he went into the hall where Vronsky was, he had completely forgotten his own despairing sobs over his sisters corpse, and he saw in Vronsky only a hero and an old friend. "With all his faults one cant refuse to do him justice," said the princess to Sergey Ivanovitch as soon as Stepan Arkadyevitch had left them. "What a typically Russian, Slav nature! Only, Im afraid it wont be pleasant for Vronsky to see him. Say what you will, Im touched by that mans fate. Do talk to him a little on the way," said the princess. "Yes, perhaps, if it happens so." "I never liked him. But this atones for a great deal. Hes not merely going himself, hes taking a squadron at his own expense." "Yes, so I heard." A bell sounded. Everyone crowded to the doors. "Here he is!" said the princess, indicating Vronsky, who with his mother on his arm walked by, wearing a long overcoat and wide-brimmed black hat. Oblonsky was walking beside him, talking eagerly of something. Vronsky was frowning and looking straight before him, as though he did not hear what Stepan Arkadyevitch was saying. Probably on Oblonskys pointing them out, he looked round in the direction where the princess and Sergey Ivanovitch were standing, and without speaking lifted his hat. His face, aged and worn by suffering, looked stony. Going onto the platform, Vronsky left his mother and disappeared into a compartment. On the platform there rang out "God save the Tsar," then shouts of "hurrah!" and _"jivio!"_ One of the volunteers, a tall, very young man with a hollow chest, was particularly conspicuous, bowing and waving his felt hat and a nosegay over his head. Then two officers emerged, bowing too, and a stout man with a big beard, wearing a greasy forage cap. Chapter 3 Saying good-bye to the princess, Sergey Ivanovitch was joined by Katavasov; together they got into a carriage full to overflowing, and the train started. At Tsaritsino station the train

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