BOOK SEVEN: 1810 - 11
10. CHAPTER X
 (continued)
"Now, look out, master!" he cried. 
Faster still the two troykas flew side by side, and faster moved the
 feet of the galloping side horses. Nicholas began to draw ahead.
 Zakhar, while still keeping his arms extended, raised one hand with
 the reins. 
"No you won't, master!" he shouted. 
Nicholas put all his horses to a gallop and passed Zakhar. The
 horses showered the fine dry snow on the faces of those in the sleigh-
 beside them sounded quick ringing bells and they caught confused
 glimpses of swiftly moving legs and the shadows of the troyka they
 were passing. The whistling sound of the runners on the snow and the
 voices of girls shrieking were heard from different sides. 
Again checking his horses, Nicholas looked around him. They were
 still surrounded by the magic plain bathed in moonlight and spangled
 with stars. 
"Zakhar is shouting that I should turn to the left, but why to the
 left?" thought Nicholas. "Are we getting to the Melyukovs'? Is this
 Melyukovka? Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows
 what is happening to us- but it is very strange and pleasant
 whatever it is." And he looked round in the sleigh. 
"Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of the
 strange, pretty, unfamiliar people- the one with fine eyebrows and
 mustache. 
"I think this used to be Natasha," thought Nicholas, "and that was
 Madame Schoss, but perhaps it's not, and this Circassian with the
 mustache I don't know, but I love her." 
"Aren't you cold?" he asked. 
They did not answer but began to laugh. Dimmler from the sleigh
 behind shouted something- probably something funny- but they could not
 make out what he said. 
"Yes, yes!" some voices answered, laughing. 
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