Война и мир

Chapter 17

           Rostóvwenttothemiddleoftheroomandlookingthroughtheopendoorsintothetwoadjoiningroomssawthesamethingthere.Hestoodstill,lookingsilentlyaround.Hehadnotatallexpectedsuchasight.Justbeforehim,almostacrossthemiddleofthepassageonthebarefloor,layasickman,probablyaCossacktojudgebythecutofhishair.Themanlayonhisback,hishugearmsandlegsoutstretched.Hisfacewaspurple,hiseyeswererolledbacksothatonlythewhiteswereseen,andonhisbarelegsandarmswhichwerestillred,theveinsstoodoutlikecords.Hewasknockingthebackofhisheadagainstthefloor,hoarselyutteringsomewordwhichhekeptrepeating.Rostóvlistenedandmadeouttheword.Itwas“drink,drink,adrink!”Rostóvglancedround,lookingforsomeonewhowouldputthismanbackinhisplaceandbringhimwater.

           “Wholooksafterthesickhere?”heaskedtheassistant.

           Justthenacommissariatsoldier,ahospitalorderly,cameinfromthenextroom,marchingstiffly,anddrewupinfrontofRostóv.

           “Goodday,yourhonor!”heshouted,rollinghiseyesatRostóvandevidentlymistakinghimforoneofthehospitalauthorities.

           “Gethimtohisplaceandgivehimsomewater,”saidRostóv,pointingtotheCossack.

           “Yes,yourhonor,”thesoldierrepliedcomplacently,androllinghiseyesmorethaneverhedrewhimselfupstillstraighter,butdidnotmove.

           “No,it’simpossibletodoanythinghere,”thoughtRostóv,loweringhiseyes,andhewasgoingout,butbecameawareofanintenselookfixedonhimonhisright,andheturned

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