Only when he stood by her head, she was suddenly quieter, while the muscles quivered under her soft, delicate coat.

Vronsky patted her strong neck, straightened over her sharp withers a stray lock of her mane that had fallen on the other side, and moved his face near her dilated nostrils, transparent as a bat's wing.

She drew a loud breath and snorted out through her tense nostrils, started, pricked up her sharp ear, and put out her strong, black lip towards Vronsky, as though she would nip hold of his sleeve.

But remembering the muzzle, she shook it and again began restlessly stamping one after the other her shapely legs.