tittle-tattle and scandal, but considered this feeling as essential, in other words, that he knew and believed that love was no joke, no mere pastime, but something serious and important. Thus, taken all in all, his presence was always agreeable to him.
Vronsky had not yet spoken to him about his love, but he knew that Yashvin knew it—looked on it in its true light; and it was a pleasure to read this in his eyes.
"Ah, yes!" said the cavalry captain, when he heard the name of the Tverskoïs; and, flashing his brilliant black eyes at him, he seized his left mustache and began to cram it into his mouth, for this was a bad habit of his.
"And what did you do last evening? Did you gain?" asked Vronsky.
"Eight thousand rubles, but three thousand possibly are no good—I may not get them."
"Well! Then you may lose on me," said Vronsky, laughing; Yashvin had laid a large wager on him.
"But I shall not lose. Makhotin is the only one to be afraid of."
And the conversation went off in regard to the races, which was the only subject of which Vronsky could now think.
"Come on, I have done," said Vronsky, getting up and going to the door. Yashvin also arose, and stretched his huge legs and long back.
"I can't dine so early, but I will take something to drink. I will follow you immediately. Here, wine!" he cried, in his heavy voice, which was the wonder of the regiment; it made the windows rattle. "No, no matter!" he cried again; "if you are going home, I'll join you."
And he went off with Vronsky.
