"I did go, but late. I beg your pardon," he added, and he
turned to the adjutant: "Please have this divided from me, each
man as much as it runs to." And he hurriedly took notes for
three hundred roubles from his pocketbook, blushing a little.

"Vronsky! Have anything to eat or drink?" asked Yashvin. "Hi,
something for the count to eat! Ah, here it is: have a glass!"

The fete at the colonel's lasted a long while. There was a great
deal of drinking. They tossed Serpuhovskoy in the air and caught
him again several times. Then they did the same to the colonel.
Then, to the accompaniment of the band, the colonel himself
danced with Petritsky. Then the colonel, who began to show signs
of feebleness, sat down on a bench in the courtyard and began
demonstrating to Yashvin the superiority of Russia over Poland,
especially in cavalry attack, and there was a lull in the revelry
for a moment. Serpuhovskoy went into the house to the bathroom
to wash his hands and found Vronsky there; Vronsky was drenching
his head with water. He had taken off his coat and put his
sunburnt, hairy neck under the tap, and was rubbing it and his
head with his hands. When he had finished, Vronsky sat down by
Serpuhovskoy. They both sat down in the bathroom on a lounge,
and a conversation began which was very interesting to both of
them.

"I've always been hearing about you through my wife," said
Serpuhovskoy. "I'm glad you've been seeing her pretty often."

"She's friendly with Varya, and they're the only women in
Petersburg I care about seeing," answered Vronsky, smiling. He
smiled because he foresaw the topic the conversation would turn
on, and he was glad of it.

"The only ones?" Serpuhovskoy queried, smiling.

"Yes; and I heard news of you, but not only through your wife,"
said Vronsky, checking his hint by a stern expression of face.
"I was greatly delighted to hear of your success, but not a bit
surprised. I expected even more."

Serpuhovskoy smiled. Such an opinion of him was obviously
agreeable to him, and he did not think it necessary to conceal
it.

"Well, I on the contrary expected less--I'll own frankly. But
I'm glad, very glad. I'm ambitious; that's my weakness, and I
confess to it."

"Perhaps you wouldn't confess to it if you hadn't been
successful," said Vronsky.

"I don't suppose so," said Serpuhovskoy, smiling again. "I
won't say life wouldn't be worth living without it, but it would
be dull. Of