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Chapter 9

           What’sitallabout?”

           “Waitabit,heisnotdrunkyet!Abottlehere,”saidAnatole,andtakingaglassfromthetablehewentuptoPierre.

           “Firstofallyoumustdrink!”

           Pierredrankoneglassafteranother,lookingfromunderhisbrowsatthetipsyguestswhowereagaincrowdingroundthewindow,andlisteningtotheirchatter.AnatolekeptonrefillingPierre’sglasswhileexplainingthatDólokhovwasbettingwithStevens,anEnglishnavalofficer,thathewoulddrinkabottleofrumsittingontheouterledgeofthethirdfloorwindowwithhislegshangingout.

           “Goon,youmustdrinkitall,”saidAnatole,givingPierrethelastglass,“orIwon’tletyougo!”

           “No,Iwon’t,”saidPierre,pushingAnatoleaside,andhewentuptothewindow.

           DólokhovwasholdingtheEnglishman’shandandclearlyanddistinctlyrepeatingthetermsofthebet,addressinghimselfparticularlytoAnatoleandPierre.

           Dólokhovwasofmediumheight,withcurlyhairandlight-blueeyes.Hewasabouttwenty-five.Likeallinfantryofficersheworenomustache,sothathismouth,themoststrikingfeatureofhisface,wasclearlyseen.Thelinesofthatmouthwereremarkablyfinelycurved.Themiddleoftheupperlipformedasharpwedgeandclosedfirmlyonthefirmlowerone,andsomethingliketwodistinctsmilesplayedcontinuallyroundthetwocornersofthemouth;this,togetherwiththeresolute,insolentintelligenceofhiseyes,producedaneffectwhichmadeitimpossiblenottonoticehisface.Dólokhovwasamanofsmallmeansandnoconnections.

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