Война и мир

Chapter 7

           Now,huntingisanothermatter—that’sit,comeon!Openthedoor,there!”heshouted.“Whyhaveyoushutit?”

           Thedoorattheendofthepassageledtothehuntsmen’sroom,astheycalledtheroomforthehuntservants.

           Therewasarapidpatterofbarefeet,andanunseenhandopenedthedoorintothehuntsmen’sroom,fromwhichcametheclearsoundsofabalaláykaonwhichsomeone,whowasevidentlyamasteroftheart,wasplaying.Natáshahadbeenlisteningtothosestrainsforsometimeandnowwentoutintothepassagetohearbetter.

           “That’sMítka,mycoachman....Ihavegothimagoodbalaláyka.I’mfondofit,”said“Uncle.”

           ItwasthecustomforMítkatoplaythebalaláykainthehuntsmen’sroomwhen“Uncle”returnedfromthechase.“Uncle”wasfondofsuchmusic.

           “Howgood!Reallyverygood!”saidNicholaswithsomeunintentionalsuperciliousness,asifashamedtoconfessthatthesoundspleasedhimverymuch.

           “Verygood?”saidNatáshareproachfully,noticingherbrother’stone.“Not‘verygood’—it’ssimplydelicious!”

           Justas“Uncle’s”pickledmushrooms,honey,andcherrybrandyhadseemedtoherthebestintheworld,soalsothatsong,atthatmoment,seemedtohertheacmeofmusicaldelight.

           “More,please,more!”criedNatáshaatthedoorassoonasthebalaláykaceased.Mítkatunedupafresh,andrecommencedthrummingthebalaláykatotheairofMyLady,withtrillsandvariations.“Uncle”satlistening,slightlysmiling,withhisheadononeside.Theairwasrepeatedahundredtimes.

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