In reality it already exceeded twenty thousand rubles.

Dolokhov was no longer listening to stories or telling them, but followed every movement of Rostov's hands and occasionally ran his eyes over the score against him.

He had decided to play until that score reached forty-three thousand.

He had fixed on that number because forty-three was the sum of his and Sonya's joint ages.

Rostov, leaning his head on both hands, sat at the table which was scrawled over with figures, wet with spilled wine, and littered with cards.