To Vronsky, at any rate, it seemed that she understood all he

felt at that moment, looking at her.

Directly Vronsky went towards her, she drew in a deep breath,

and, turning back her prominent eye till the white looked

bloodshot, she started at the approaching figures from the

opposite side, shaking her muzzle, and shifting lightly from one

leg to the other.

"There, you see how fidgety she is," said the Englishman.

"There, darling! There!" said Vronsky, going up to the mare and

speaking soothingly to her.

But the nearer he came, the more excited she grew. Only when he

stood by her head, she was suddenly quieter, while the muscles

quivered under her soft, delicate coat. Vronsky patted her

strong neck, straightened over her sharp withers a stray lock of

her mane that had fallen on the other side, and moved his face

near her dilated nostrils, transparent as a bat's wing. She drew

a loud breath and snorted out through her tense nostrils,

started, pricked up her sharp ear, and put out her strong, black

lip towards Vronsky, as though she would nip hold of his sleeve.

But remembering the muzzle, she shook it and again began

restlessly stamping one after the other her shapely legs.

"Quiet, darling, quiet!" he said, patting her again over her

hind-quarters; and with a glad sense that his mare was in the

best possible condition, he went out of the horse-box.

The mare's excitement had infected Vronsky. He felt that his

heart was throbbing, and that he, too, like the mare, longed to

move, to bite; it was both dreadful and delicious.

"Well, I rely on you, then," he said to the Englishman;

"half-past six on the ground."

"All right," said the Englishman. "Oh, where are you going, my

lord?" he asked suddenly, using the title "my lord," which he had

scarcely ever used before.

Vronsky in amazement raised his head, and stared, as he knew how

to stare, not into the Englishman's eyes, but at his forehead,

astounded at the impertinence of his question. But realizing

that in asking this the Englishman had been looking at him not as

an employer, but as a jockey, he answered: "I've got to go to Bryansky's; I shall be home within an hour."

"How often I'm asked that question today!" he said to himself,

and he blushed, a thing which rarely happened to him. The

Englishman looked gravely at him; and, as though he, too, knew

where Vronsky was going, he added: "The great thing's to keep quiet before a race," said he; "don't

get out of temper or upset about anything."




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