Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
outside and saying something in their gypsy accents. Nicholas
understood that it was all over; but he said in an indifferent tone:
"Well, wont you go on? I had a splendid card all ready," as if it
were the fun of the game which interested him most.
"Its all up! Im lost!" thought he. "Now a bullet through my
brain--thats all thats left me!" And at the same time he said in a
"Come now, just this one more little card!"
"All right!" said Dolokhov, having finished the addition. "All
right! Twenty-one rubles," he said, pointing to the figure
twenty-one by which the total exceeded the round sum of forty-three
thousand; and taking up a pack he prepared to deal. Rostov
submissively unbent the corner of his card and, instead of the six
thousand he had intended, carefully wrote twenty-one.
"Its all the same to me," he said. "I only want to see whether
you will let me win this ten, or beat it."
Dolokhov began to deal seriously. Oh, how Rostov detested at that
moment those hands with their short reddish fingers and hairy
wrists, which held him in their power.... The ten fell to him.
"You owe forty-three thousand, Count," said Dolokhov, and stretching
himself he rose from the table. "One does get tired sitting so
long," he added.
"Yes, Im tired too," said Rostov.
Dolokhov cut him short, as if to remind him that it was not for
him to jest.
"When am I to receive the money, Count?"
Rostov, flushing, drew Dolokhov into the next room.
"I cannot pay it all immediately. Will you take an I.O.U.?" he said.
"I say, Rostov," said Dolokhov clearly, smiling and looking Nicholas
straight in the eyes, "you know the saying, Lucky in love, unlucky at
cards. Your cousin is in love with you, I know."
"Oh, its terrible to feel oneself so in this mans power,"
thought Rostov. He knew what a shock he would inflict on his father
and mother by the news of this loss, he knew what a relief it would be
to escape it all, and felt that Dolokhov knew that he could save him
from all this shame and sorrow, but wanted now to play with him as a
cat does with a mouse.
"Your cousin..." Dolokhov started to say, but Nicholas interrupted
"My cousin has nothing to do with this and its not necessary to
mention her!" he exclaimed fiercely.
"Then when am I to have it?"
"Tomorrow," replied Rostov and left the room.
To say "tomorrow" and keep up a dignified tone was not difficult,
but to go home alone, see his sisters, brother, mother, and father,
confess and ask for money he had no right to after giving his word
of honor, was terrible.
At home, they had not yet gone to bed. The young people, after
returning from the theater, had had supper and were grouped round
the clavichord. As soon as Nicholas entered, he was enfolded in that
poetic atmosphere of love which pervaded the Rostov household that
winter and, now after Dolokhovs proposal and Iogels ball, seemed
to have grown thicker round Sonya and Natasha as the air does before a
thunderstorm. Sonya and Natasha, in the light-blue dresses they had
worn at the theater, looking pretty and conscious of it, were standing
by the clavichord, happy and smiling. Vera was playing chess with
Shinshin in the drawing room. The old countess, waiting for the return
of her husband and son, sat playing patience with the old
gentlewoman who lived in their house. Denisov, with sparkling eyes and
ruffled hair, sat at the clavichord striking chords with his short
fingers, his legs thrown back and his eyes rolling as he sang, with
his small, husky, but true voice, some verses called "Enchantress,"
which he had composed, and to which he was trying to fit music:
Enchantress, say, to my forsaken lyre
What magic power is this recalls me still?
What spark has set my inmost soul on fire,
What is this bliss that makes my fingers thrill?
He was singing in passionate tones, gazing with his
sparkling black-agate eyes at the frightened and happy Natasha.
"Splendid! Excellent!" exclaimed Natasha. "Another verse," she
said, without noticing Nicholas.
"Everythings still the same with them," thought Nicholas,
glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother
with the old lady.
"Ah, and heres Nicholas!" cried Natasha, running up to him.
"Is Papa at home?" he asked.
"I am so glad youve come!" said Natasha, without answering him. "We
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