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"
That
's
the
way
,
"
said
Dólokhov
,
"
and
then
so
!
"
and
he
turned
the
collar
up
round
her
head
,
leaving
only
a
little
of
the
face
uncovered
.
"
And
then
so
,
do
you
see
?
"
and
he
pushed
Anatole
's
head
forward
to
meet
the
gap
left
by
the
collar
,
through
which
Matrëna
's
brilliant
smile
was
seen
.
"
Well
,
good-by
,
Matrëna
,
"
said
Anatole
,
kissing
her
.
"
Ah
,
my
revels
here
are
over
.
Remember
me
to
Stëshka
.
There
,
good-by
!
Good-by
,
Matrëna
,
wish
me
luck
!
"
"
Well
,
Prince
,
may
God
give
you
great
luck
!
"
said
Matrëna
in
her
gypsy
accent
.
Two
troykas
were
standing
before
the
porch
and
two
young
drivers
were
holding
the
horses
.
Balagá
took
his
seat
in
the
front
one
and
holding
his
elbows
high
arranged
the
reins
deliberately
.
Anatole
and
Dólokhov
got
in
with
him
.
Makárin
,
Khvóstikov
,
and
a
valet
seated
themselves
in
the
other
sleigh
.
"
Well
,
are
you
ready
?
"
asked
Balagá
.
"
Go
!
"
he
cried
,
twisting
the
reins
round
his
hands
,
and
the
troyka
tore
down
the
Nikítski
Boulevard
.
"
Tproo
!
Get
out
of
the
way
!
Hi
!
...
Tproo
!
...
"
The
shouting
of
Balagá
and
of
the
sturdy
young
fellow
seated
on
the
box
was
all
that
could
be
heard
.
On
the
Arbát
Square
the
troyka
caught
against
a
carriage
;
something
cracked
,
shouts
were
heard
,
and
the
troyka
flew
along
the
Arbát
Street
.
After
taking
a
turn
along
the
Podnovínski
Boulevard
,
Balagá
began
to
rein
in
,
and
turning
back
drew
up
at
the
crossing
of
the
old
Konyúsheny
Street
.
The
young
fellow
on
the
box
jumped
down
to
hold
the
horses
and
Anatole
and
Dólokhov
went
along
the
pavement
.
When
they
reached
the
gate
Dólokhov
whistled
.
The
whistle
was
answered
,
and
a
maidservant
ran
out
.
"
Come
into
the
courtyard
or
you
'll
be
seen
;
she
'll
come
out
directly
,
"
said
she
.
