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"
Ah
!
"
said
Anatole
.
"
Well
,
sit
down
.
"
"
Yes
,
sit
down
!
"
said
Dólokhov
.
"
I
'll
stand
,
Theodore
Iványch
"
"
Sit
down
;
nonsense
!
Have
a
drink
!
"
said
Anatole
,
and
filled
a
large
glass
of
Madeira
for
him
.
The
driver
's
eyes
sparkled
at
the
sight
of
the
wine
.
After
refusing
it
for
manners
'
sake
,
he
drank
it
and
wiped
his
mouth
with
a
red
silk
handkerchief
he
took
out
of
his
cap
.
"
And
when
are
we
to
start
,
your
excellency
?
"
"
Well
...
"
Anatole
looked
at
his
watch
.
"
We
'll
start
at
once
.
Mind
,
Balagá
!
You
'll
get
there
in
time
?
Eh
?
"
"
That
depends
on
our
luck
in
starting
,
else
why
should
n't
we
be
there
in
time
?
"
replied
Balagá
.
"
Did
n't
we
get
you
to
Tver
in
seven
hours
?
I
think
you
remember
that
,
your
excellency
?
"
"
Do
you
know
,
one
Christmas
I
drove
from
Tver
,
"
said
Anatole
,
smilingly
at
the
recollection
and
turning
to
Makárin
who
gazed
rapturously
at
him
with
wide-open
eyes
.
"
Will
you
believe
it
,
Makárka
,
it
took
one
's
breath
away
,
the
rate
we
flew
.
We
came
across
a
train
of
loaded
sleighs
and
drove
right
over
two
of
them
.
Eh
?
"
