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He scattered the burning tobacco, smashed the pipe, and threw it

away. Then he remained silent for a while, and all at once looked

cheerfully with his glittering, black eyes at Rostov.

"If at least we had some women here; but there's nothing foh one

to do but dwink. If we could only get to fighting soon. Hullo,

who's there?" he said, turning to the door as he heard a tread of

heavy boots and the clinking of spurs that came to a stop, and a

respectful cough.

"The squadron quartermaster!" said Lavrushka.

Denisov's face puckered still more.

"Wetched!" he muttered, throwing down a purse with some gold in

it. "Wostov, deah fellow, just see how much there is left and

shove the purse undah the pillow," he said, and went out to the

quartermaster.

Rostov took the money and, mechanically arranging the old and new

coins in separate piles, began counting them.

"Ah! Telyanin! How d'ye do? They plucked me last night," came

Denisov's voice from the next room.