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- Стр. 352/1273
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"
One
should
make
up
to
the
husbands
of
pretty
women
,
"
said
Denísov
.
Pierre
did
not
catch
what
they
were
saying
,
but
knew
they
were
talking
about
him
.
He
reddened
and
turned
away
.
"
Well
,
now
to
the
health
of
handsome
women
!
"
said
Dólokhov
,
and
with
a
serious
expression
,
but
with
a
smile
lurking
at
the
corners
of
his
mouth
,
he
turned
with
his
glass
to
Pierre
.
"
Here
's
to
the
health
of
lovely
women
,
Peterkin
--
and
their
lovers
!
"
he
added
.
Pierre
,
with
downcast
eyes
,
drank
out
of
his
glass
without
looking
at
Dólokhov
or
answering
him
.
The
footman
,
who
was
distributing
leaflets
with
Kutúzov
's
cantata
,
laid
one
before
Pierre
as
one
of
the
principal
guests
.
He
was
just
going
to
take
it
when
Dólokhov
,
leaning
across
,
snatched
it
from
his
hand
and
began
reading
it
.
Pierre
looked
at
Dólokhov
and
his
eyes
dropped
,
the
something
terrible
and
monstrous
that
had
tormented
him
all
dinnertime
rose
and
took
possession
of
him
.
He
leaned
his
whole
massive
body
across
the
table
.
"
How
dare
you
take
it
?
"
he
shouted
.
Hearing
that
cry
and
seeing
to
whom
it
was
addressed
,
Nesvítski
and
the
neighbor
on
his
right
quickly
turned
in
alarm
to
Bezúkhov
.
"
Do
n't
!
Do
n't
!
What
are
you
about
?
"
whispered
their
frightened
voices
.
Dólokhov
looked
at
Pierre
with
clear
,
mirthful
,
cruel
eyes
,
and
that
smile
of
his
which
seemed
to
say
,
"
Ah
!
This
is
what
I
like
!
"
"
You
sha
n't
have
it
!
"
he
said
distinctly
.
