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 was bringing his beefsteak on a hot silver platter. Moving the platter toward him, he began his meal.

In the adjoining billiard-room the clicking of balls was heard, and two voices talking and laughing. Two officers appeared in the door: one of them was a young man with delicate, refined features, who had just graduated from the Corps of Pages and joined the regiment; the other was old and fat, with little, moist eyes, and wore a bracelet on his wrist.

Vronsky glanced at them and frowned, and went on eating and reading at the same time, as if he had not seen them.

"Getting ready for work, are you?" asked the fat officer, sitting down near him.

"You see I am," replied Vronsky, wiping his lips, and frowning again, without looking up.

"But are n't you afraid of getting fat?" continued the elderly officer, pulling up a chair for his junior.

"What!" cried Vronsky, making a grimace to express his disgust and aversion, and showing his splendid teeth.

"Are n't you afraid of getting fat?"

"Waiter, sherry!" cried Vronsky, without replying, and he changed his book to the other side of his plate, and continued to read.

The fat officer took the wine-list, and passed it over to the young officer.

"You select what we'll have to drink," said he, giving him the list and looking at him.

"Rhine wine, if you please," replied the young officer, looking timidly at Vronsky out of the corner of his eye and trying to twist his imaginary mustache.

When he saw that Vronsky did not turn, the young officer got up and said, "Let us go into the billiard-room."

The fat officer humbly arose, and the two went out of the door.

At the same time a tall, stately cavalry captain, named Yashvin, came in. He condescendingly and disdainfully nodded to the two officers, and went toward Vronsky.