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Updated: June 20, 2025
Rostov, always closely followed by Ilyin, rode along the side of the road between two rows of birch trees. When campaigning, Rostov allowed himself the indulgence of riding not a regimental but a Cossack horse.
I'm not against the commune," said Dron. "That's it not against it! You've filled your belly...." The two tall peasants had their say. As soon as Rostov, followed by Ilyin, Lavrushka, and Alpatych, came up to the crowd, Karp, thrusting his fingers into his belt and smiling a little, walked to the front. Dron on the contrary retired to the rear and the crowd drew closer together.
"It seems as though there is something going wrong with me," she thought from time to time through her laughter and singing. The party broke up at twelve o'clock. Ilyin was the last to leave. Sofya Petrovna was still reckless enough to accompany him to the bottom step of the verandah.
She realized that Ilyin was unhappy, and that he was sitting on the sofa as though he were on hot coals; she felt sorry for him, but at the same time the presence of a man who loved her to distraction, filled her soul with triumph and a sense of her own power.
I've never been in love like this in my life." Sofya Petrovna, who had not expected such a turn to their conversation, drew away from Ilyin and looked into his face in dismay. Tears came into his eyes, his lips were quivering, and there was an imploring, hungry expression in his face. "I love you!" he muttered, bringing his eyes near her big, frightened eyes. "You are so beautiful!
"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.
Yes, indeed; either you are playing with me, or else . . ." Ilyin leaned his head on his fists without finishing. Sofya Petrovna began going over in her own mind the way she had behaved from beginning to end.
Rostov glanced angrily at Ilyin and without replying strode off with rapid steps to the village. "I'll show them; I'll give it to them, the brigands!" said he to himself. Alpatych at a gliding trot, only just managing not to run, kept up with him with difficulty. "What decision have you been pleased to come to?" said he.
At the moment when Rostov and Ilyin were galloping along the road, Princess Mary, despite the dissuasions of Alpatych, her nurse, and the maids, had given orders to harness and intended to start, but when the cavalrymen were espied they were taken for Frenchmen, the coachman ran away, and the women in the house began to wail. "Father! Benefactor!
Rostov and Ilyin gave rein to their horses for a last race along the incline before reaching Bogucharovo, and Rostov, outstripping Ilyin, was the first to gallop into the village street. "You're first!" cried Ilyin, flushed. "Yes, always first both on the grassland and here," answered Rostov, stroking his heated Donets horse.
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