At midday on the twenty-second of October Pierre was going uphill along the muddy, slippery road, looking at his feet and at the roughne of the way. Occasionally he glanced at the familiar crowd around him and then again at his feet. The former and the latter were alike familiar and his own. The blue-gray bandy legged dog ran merrily along the side of the road, sometimes in proof of its agility and self-satisfaction lifting one hind leg and hopping alo ......

   非注册付费用户仅能浏览前500字，更多内容，请 注册或付费