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 ing his cap over the bald spot, he went out and got into his carriage.

"To the stables," he said.

He started to take his letters for a second reading, but on second thought deferred them so that he might think of nothing else but his horse.

"I'll wait."

CHAPTER XXI

stable,—a balagan, or hut,—made out of planks, had been built near the race-course; and here Vronsky's horse should have been brought the evening before. He had not as yet seen her. During the last few days he himself had not been out to drive, but he had intrusted her to the trainer; and Vronsky did not know in what condition he should find her. He was just getting out of his carriage when his konyukh, or groom, a young fellow, saw him from a distance, and immediately called the trainer. This was an Englishman with withered face and tufted chin, and dressed in short jacket and top-boots. He came out toward Vronsky in the mincing step peculiar to jockeys, and with elbows sticking out.

"Well, how is Frou Frou?" said Vronsky, in English.

"All right, sir," said the Englishman, in a voice that came out of the bottom of his throat. "Better not go in, sir," he added, taking off his hat. "I have put a muzzle on her, and that excites her. Better not go in, it excites a horse."

"No, I am going in, I want to see her."

"Come on, then," replied the Englishman, testily; and, without ever opening his mouth, and with his dandified step, he led the way.

They went into a small yard in front of the stable. An active and alert stable-boy in a clean jacket, with whip in hand, met them as they entered, and followed them. Five horses were in the stable, each in its own stall. Vronsky knew that his most redoubtable rival,—