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Chapter 13

           

           BeneathhissmileRostóvsawinhimthemoodhehadshownattheclubdinnerandatothertimes,whenasiftiredofeverydaylifehehadfeltaneedtoescapefromitbysomestrange,andusuallycruel,action.

           Rostóvfeltillatease.Hetried,butfailed,tofindsomejokewithwhichtoreplytoDólokhov’swords.Butbeforehehadthoughtofanything,Dólokhov,lookingstraightinhisface,saidslowlyanddeliberatelysothateveryonecouldhear:

           “Doyourememberwehadatalkaboutcards...‘He’safoolwhotruststoluck,oneshouldmakecertain,’andIwanttotry.”

           “Totryhisluckorthecertainty?”Rostóvaskedhimself.

           “Well,you’dbetternotplay,”Dólokhovadded,andspringinganewpackofcardssaid:“Bank,gentlemen!”

           Movingthemoneyforwardhepreparedtodeal.Rostóvsatdownbyhissideandatfirstdidnotplay.Dólokhovkeptglancingathim.

           “Whydon’tyouplay?”heasked.

           AndstrangetosayNicholasfeltthathecouldnothelptakingupacard,puttingasmallstakeonit,andbeginningtoplay.

           “Ihavenomoneywithme,”hesaid.

           “I’lltrustyou.”

           Rostóvstakedfiverublesonacardandlost,stakedagain,andagainlost.Dólokhov“killed,”thatis,beat,tencardsofRostóv’srunning.

           “Gentlemen,”saidDólokhovafterhehaddealtforsometime.“PleaseplaceyourmoneyonthecardsorImaygetmuddledinthereckoning.”

           Oneoftheplayerssaidhehopedhemightbetrusted.

           “Yes,youmight,butIamafraidofgettingtheaccountsmixed.SoIaskyoutoputthemoneyonyourcards,”repliedDólokhov.

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