"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, there's some sense in that. Stop a bit, Vronsky. We'll

all have a drink."

"No; good-bye all of you. I'm 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.

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"Well?"

"You'd better get your hair cut, it'll 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!"




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