Not far from them were three hobbled horses.

One of them clanked a chain.

Laska walked beside her master, pressing a little forward and looking round.

Passing the sleeping peasants and reaching the first reeds, Levin examined his pistols and let his dog off.

One of the horses, a sleek, dark-brown three-year-old, seeing the dog, started away, switched its tail and snorted.

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