PART 2
Chapter 20
(continued)
Vronsky's 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 I've not seen her yet."
"They say Mahotin's Gladiator's 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. "Here's Yashvin ordering me a drink a pick-me-up."
"Well, you did give it to us yesterday," said one of those who
had come in; "you didn't let us get a wink of sleep all night."
"Oh, didn't we make a pretty finish!" said Petritsky. "Volkov
climbed onto the roof and began telling us how sad he was. I
said: 'Let's 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, 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.
"Well?"
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