speak? Whom have you got there dressed up as a Hungarian?” said the commander with an austere gibe.
“Your excellency …”
“Well, your excellency, what? Your excellency! But what about your excellency? … nobody knows.”
“Your excellency, it’s the officer Dólokhov, who has been reduced to the ranks,” said the captain softly.
“Well? Has he been degraded into a field marshal, or into a soldier? If a soldier, he should be dressed in regulation uniform like the others.”
“Your excellency, you gave him leave yourself, on the march.”
“Gave him leave? Leave? That’s just like you young men,” said the regimental commander cooling down a little. “Leave indeed. … One says a word to you and you … What?” he added with renewed irritation, “I beg you to dress your men decently.”
And the commander, turning