"Drink it up; you positively must drink the brandy, and then
seltzer water and a lot of lemon," said Yashvin, standing over
Petritsky like a mother making a child take medicine, "and then a
little champagne--just a small bottle."
"Come, there's some sense in that. Stop a bit, Vronsky. We'll
all have a drink."
"No; good-bye all of you. I'm not going to drink today."
"Why, are you gaining weight? All right, then we must have it
alone. Give us the seltzer water and lemon."
"Vronsky!" shouted someone when he was already outside.
"Well?"
"You'd better get your hair cut, it'll weigh you down, especially
at the top."
Vronsky was in fact beginning, prematurely, to get a little bald.
He laughed gaily, showing his even teeth, and pulling his cap over
the thin place, went out and got into his carriage.
"To the stables!" he said, and was just pulling out the letters
to read them through, but he thought better of it, and put off
reading them so as not to distract his attention before looking
at the mare. "Later!"