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Updated: May 26, 2025
There were only three tumblers, the water was so muddy that one could not make out whether the tea was strong or weak, and the samovar held only six tumblers of water, but this made it all the pleasanter to take turns in order of seniority to receive one's tumbler from Mary Hendrikhovna's plump little hands with their short and not overclean nails.
Five minutes later Ilyin, splashing through the mud, came running back to the shanty. "Hurrah! Rostov, come quick! I've found it! About two hundred yards away there's a tavern where ours have already gathered. We can at least get dry there, and Mary Hendrikhovna's there." Mary Hendrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a pretty young German woman he had married in Poland.
"Dear me, how jolly we are!" said Rostov laughing. "And why do you stand there gaping?" "What swells they are! Why, the water streams from them! Don't make our drawing room so wet." "Don't mess Mary Hendrikhovna's dress!" cried other voices. Rostov and Ilyin hastened to find a corner where they could change into dry clothes without offending Mary Hendrikhovna's modesty.
At Rostov's suggestion it was agreed that whoever became "King" should have the right to kiss Mary Hendrikhovna's hand, and that the "Booby" should go to refill and reheat the samovar for the doctor when the latter awoke. "Well, but supposing Mary Hendrikhovna is 'King'?" asked Ilyin. "As it is, she is Queen, and her word is law!"
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