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- Стр. 150/1273
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"
What
about
your
master
?
"
he
asked
Lavrúshka
,
Denísov
's
orderly
,
whom
all
the
regiment
knew
for
a
rogue
.
"
Has
n't
been
in
since
the
evening
.
Must
have
been
losing
,
"
answered
Lavrúshka
.
"
I
know
by
now
,
if
he
wins
he
comes
back
early
to
brag
about
it
,
but
if
he
stays
out
till
morning
it
means
he
's
lost
and
will
come
back
in
a
rage
.
Will
you
have
coffee
?
"
"
Yes
,
bring
some
.
"
Ten
minutes
later
Lavrúshka
brought
the
coffee
.
"
He
's
coming
!
"
said
he
.
"
Now
for
trouble
!
"
Rostóv
looked
out
of
the
window
and
saw
Denísov
coming
home
.
Denísov
was
a
small
man
with
a
red
face
,
sparkling
black
eyes
,
and
black
tousled
mustache
and
hair
.
He
wore
an
unfastened
cloak
,
wide
breeches
hanging
down
in
creases
,
and
a
crumpled
shako
on
the
back
of
his
head
.
He
came
up
to
the
porch
gloomily
,
hanging
his
head
.
"
Lavwúska
!
"
he
shouted
loudly
and
angrily
,
"
take
it
off
,
blockhead
!
"
"
Well
,
I
am
taking
it
off
,
"
replied
Lavrúshka
's
voice
.
"
Ah
,
you
're
up
already
,
"
said
Denísov
,
entering
the
room
.
"
Long
ago
,
"
answered
Rostóv
,
"
I
have
already
been
for
the
hay
,
and
have
seen
Fräulein
Mathilde
.
"
"
Weally
!
And
I
've
been
losing
,
bwother
.
I
lost
yesterday
like
a
damned
fool
!
"
cried
Denísov
,
not
pronouncing
his
r
's
.
"
Such
ill
luck
!
Such
ill
luck
.
As
soon
as
you
left
,
it
began
and
went
on
.
Hullo
there
!
Tea
!
"
Puckering
up
his
face
though
smiling
,
and
showing
his
short
strong
teeth
,
he
began
with
stubby
fingers
of
both
hands
to
ruffle
up
his
thick
tangled
black
hair
.
