‘You keep getting younger, Bondarenko.’ He addressed the dashing, red-cheeked sergeant-major, now serving his second term, who was standing right in front of him.
Vronsky had not seen Serpukhovskoy for three years. He looked more manly, having let his side-whiskers grow, but he was still as trim, striking not so much by his good looks as by the delicacy and nobility of his face and build. One change that Vronsky noticed in him was the quiet, steady glow that settles on the faces of those who are successful and are certain that their success is recognized by everyone. Vronsky knew that glow and noticed it at once in Serpukhovskoy.
Going down the stairs, Serpukhovskoy saw Vronsky. A smile of joy lit up his face. He tossed his head and raised his glass, greeting Vronsky and showing by this gesture that he could not help going first to the sergeant-major who, drawing himself up, had already puckered his lips for a kiss.
‘Well, here he is!’ cried the regimental commander. ‘And Yashvin told me you were in one of your dark moods.’
Serpukhovskoy kissed the dashing sergeant-major on his moist and fresh lips and, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, went up to Vronsky.
‘Well, I’m so glad!’ he said, pressing his hand and leading him aside.
‘Take care of him!’ the regimental commander cried to Yashvin, pointing at Vronsky, and went down to the soldiers.
‘Why weren’t you at the races yesterday? I thought I’d see you there,’ said Vronsky, looking Serpukhovskoy over.
‘I came, but late. Sorry,’ he added and turned to his adjutant. ‘Please tell them this is to be handed out from me, however much it comes to per man.’
And he hastily took three hundred-rouble notes from his wallet and blushed.
‘Vronsky! Want anything to eat or drink?’ asked Yashvin. ‘Hey, bring the count something to eat! And here’s a drink for you.’
The carousing at the regimental commander’s went on for a long time.
They drank a lot. They swung and tossed Serpukhovskoy. Then they swung the regimental commander. Then in front of the singers the regimental commander himself danced with Petritsky. Then the regimental commander, grown somewhat slack now, sat down on a bench in the yard and began proving to Yashvin Russia’s advantages over Prussia, especially in cavalry attack, and the carousing subsided for a moment. Serpukhovskoy went inside to the dressing room, to wash his hands, and found Vronsky there; Vronsky was dousing himself with water. Taking off his jacket, he put his hairy red neck under the stream from the tap and rubbed it and his head with his hands. When he had finished washing, Vronsky sat down with Serpukhovskoy. The two men sat on a little sofa, and a conversation began between them that was very interesting for them both.
‘I knew everything about you through my wife,’ said Serpukhovskoy. ‘I’m glad you saw her often.’
‘She’s friends with Varya, and they’re the only women in Petersburg I enjoy seeing,’ Vronsky replied with a smile. He smiled because he foresaw the subject the conversation would turn to, and it was pleasing to him.
‘The only ones?’ Serpukhovskoy repeated, smiling.
‘Yes, and I knew about you, but not only through your wife,’ said Vronsky, forbidding the allusion with a stern look. ‘I was very glad of your success, but not surprised in the least. I expected still more.’
Serpukhovskoy smiled. He was obviously pleased by this opinion of him, and found it unnecessary to conceal it.
‘I, on the contrary, will sincerely admit that I expected less. But I’m glad, very glad. I’m ambitious, that’s my weakness, and I admit it.’
‘You might not admit it if you weren’t successful,’ said Vronsky.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Serpukhovskoy, smiling again. ‘I won’t say life wouldn’t be worth living without it, but it would be boring. Of course, I may be wrong, but it seems to me that I have some ability for the sphere of action I’ve chosen, and that power, whatever it might be, if I should get it, would be better in my hands than in the hands of many men I know,’ he said, with a glowing awareness of success. ‘And therefore, the closer I come to it, the more pleased I am.’
‘That may be so for you, but not for everyone. I thought the same thing, but now I live and find that it’s not worth living just for that,’ said Vronsky.
‘There it is! There it is!’ Serpukhovskoy said, laughing. ‘I began by saying that I’d heard about you, about your refusal ... Naturally, I approved of you. But there’s a right and wrong way for everything. And I think that the action was good, but you didn’t do it as you should have.’
‘What’s done is done, and you know I never renounce what I’ve done. And then, too, I’m quite fine.’
‘Quite fine - for the time being. But you won’t remain satisfied with that. It’s not your brother I’m talking to. He’s a sweet child, just like our host - there he goes!’ he added, hearing a shout of ‘Hurrah!’ ‘And he has his fun. But for you that’s not enough.’
‘I’m not saying I’m satisfied.’
‘It isn’t just that. People like you are needed.’
‘By whom?’
