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About
ten
o'clock
Rostóv
went
to
the
English
Hotel
straight
from
the
theater
,
where
he
had
been
with
his
family
and
Denísov
.
He
was
at
once
shown
to
the
best
room
,
which
Dólokhov
had
taken
for
that
evening
.
Some
twenty
men
were
gathered
round
a
table
at
which
Dólokhov
sat
between
two
candles
.
On
the
table
was
a
pile
of
gold
and
paper
money
,
and
he
was
keeping
the
bank
.
Rostóv
had
not
seen
him
since
his
proposal
and
Sónya
's
refusal
and
felt
uncomfortable
at
the
thought
of
how
they
would
meet
.
Dólokhov
's
clear
,
cold
glance
met
Rostóv
as
soon
as
he
entered
the
door
,
as
though
he
had
long
expected
him
.
"
It
's
a
long
time
since
we
met
,
"
he
said
.
"
Thanks
for
coming
.
I
'll
just
finish
dealing
,
and
then
Ilyúshka
will
come
with
his
chorus
.
"
"
I
called
once
or
twice
at
your
house
,
"
said
Rostóv
,
reddening
.
Dólokhov
made
no
reply
.
"
You
may
punt
,
"
he
said
.
Rostóv
recalled
at
that
moment
a
strange
conversation
he
had
once
had
with
Dólokhov
.
"
None
but
fools
trust
to
luck
in
play
,
"
Dólokhov
had
then
said
.
"
Or
are
you
afraid
to
play
with
me
?
"
Dólokhov
now
asked
as
if
guessing
Rostóv
's
thought
.
Beneath
his
smile
Rostóv
saw
in
him
the
mood
he
had
shown
at
the
club
dinner
and
at
other
times
,
when
as
if
tired
of
everyday
life
he
had
felt
a
need
to
escape
from
it
by
some
strange
,
and
usually
cruel
,
action
.
Rostóv
felt
ill
at
ease
.
He
tried
,
but
failed
,
to
find
some
joke
with
which
to
reply
to
Dólokhov
's
words
.
But
before
he
had
thought
of
anything
,
Dólokhov
,
looking
straight
in
his
face
,
said
slowly
and
deliberately
so
that
everyone
could
hear
:
