"Or are you afraid to play with me?" Dolokhov now asked as if guessing Rostov's thought.

Beneath his smile Rostov saw in him the mood he had shown at the Club dinner and at other times, when as if tired of everyday life he had felt a need to escape from it by some strange, and usually cruel, action.

Rostov felt ill at ease.

He tried, but failed, to find some joke with which to reply to Dolokhov's words.

But before he had thought of anything, Dolokhov, looking straight in his face, said slowly and deliberately so that everyone could hear: "Do you remember we had a talk about cards... 'He's a fool who trusts to luck, one should make certain,' and I want to try.