place a tuft of her mane that she had tossed on the other side; and then he put his face close to her nostrils, which swelled and dilated like the wings of a bat. She drew in the air, and loudly expelled it from her quivering nostrils, pricked up her sharp ears, and stretched out her long black lips to seize his sleeve; but, when she found herself prevented by her muzzle, she shook it, and began to caper again on her slender legs.
"Quiet, my beauty, quiet," said Vronsky, calming her; and he left the stable with the reassuring conviction that his horse was in perfect condition.
But the nervousness of the steed had taken possession of Vronsky; he felt the blood rush to his heart, and, like the horse, he wanted violent action; he felt like prancing and biting. It was a sensation at once strange and joyful.
"Well, I count on you," said he to the Englishman. "Be on the grounds at half-past six."
"All shall be ready. But where are you going, my lord?" asked the Englishman, using the title of "my lord," which he almost never permitted himself to use.
Astonished at this, Vronsky raised his head, and looked at him as he well understood how to do, not into the Englishman's eyes, but at his forehead. He instantly saw that the Englishman had spoken to him, not as to his master, but as to a jockey; and he replied: —
"I have got to see Briansky, and I shall be at home in an hour."
"How many times have I been asked that question to-day!" he said to himself; and he grew red, which was a rare occurrence with him. The Englishman looked at him closely. And, as if he also knew where Vronsky was going, he said: —
"The main thing is to keep calm before the race. Don't get out of sorts; don't get bothered."
"All right," replied Vronsky, with a smile; and, jumping into his carriage, he ordered the coachman to drive to Peterhof.
He had gone but a short distance before the clouds,
