Війна і мир

Chapter 9

           Yet,thoughAnatolespenttensofthousandsofrubles,Dólokhovlivedwithhimandhadplacedhimselfonsuchafootingthatallwhoknewthem,includingAnatolehimself,respectedhimmorethantheydidAnatole.Dólokhovcouldplayallgamesandnearlyalwayswon.Howevermuchhedrank,heneverlosthisclearheadedness.BothKuráginandDólokhovwereatthattimenotoriousamongtherakesandscapegracesofPetersburg.

           Thebottleofrumwasbrought.Thewindowframewhichpreventedanyonefromsittingontheoutersillwasbeingforcedoutbytwofootmen,whowereevidentlyflurriedandintimidatedbythedirectionsandshoutsofthegentlemenaround.

           Anatolewithhisswaggeringairstrodeuptothewindow.Hewantedtosmashsomething.Pushingawaythefootmenhetuggedattheframe,butcouldnotmoveit.Hesmashedapane.

           “Youhaveatry,Hercules,”saidhe,turningtoPierre.

           Pierreseizedthecrossbeam,tugged,andwrenchedtheoakframeoutwithacrash.

           “Takeitrightout,orthey’llthinkI’mholdingon,”saidDólokhov.

           “IstheEnglishmanbragging?...Eh?Isitallright?”saidAnatole.

           “First-rate,”saidPierre,lookingatDólokhov,whowithabottleofruminhishandwasapproachingthewindow,fromwhichthelightofthesky,thedawnmergingwiththeafterglowofsunset,wasvisible.

           Dólokhov,thebottleofrumstillinhishand,jumpedontothewindowsill.“Listen!”criedhe,standingthereandaddressingthoseintheroom.Allweresilent.

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