Война и мир

Chapter 8

           Behindthem,wearingasmileandleaningoverwithaneartoJulie’smouth,wasBorís’handsomesmoothlybrushedhead.HelookedattheRostóvsfromunderhisbrowsandsaidsomething,smiling,tohisbetrothed.

           “Theyaretalkingaboutus,aboutmeandhim!”thoughtNatásha.“Andhenodoubtiscalmingherjealousyofme.Theyneedn’ttroublethemselves!IfonlytheyknewhowlittleIamconcernedaboutanyofthem.”

           BehindthemsatAnnaMikháylovnawearingagreenheaddressandwithahappylookofresignationtothewillofGodonherface.TheirboxwaspervadedbythatatmosphereofanaffiancedcouplewhichNatáshaknewsowellandlikedsomuch.Sheturnedawayandsuddenlyrememberedallthathadbeensohumiliatinginhermorning’svisit.

           “Whatrighthashenottowishtoreceivemeintohisfamily?Oh,betternotthinkofit—nottillhecomesback!”shetoldherself,andbeganlookingatthefaces,somestrangeandsomefamiliar,inthestalls.Inthefront,intheverycenter,leaningbackagainsttheorchestrarail,stoodDólokhovinaPersiandress,hiscurlyhairbrushedupintoahugeshock.Hestoodinfullviewoftheaudience,wellawarethathewasattractingeveryone’sattention,yetasmuchateaseasthoughhewereinhisownroom.AroundhimthrongedMoscow’smostbrilliantyoungmen,whomheevidentlydominated.

           Thecount,laughing,nudgedtheblushingSónyaandpointedtoherformeradorer.

           “Doyourecognizehim?”saidhe.“Andwherehashesprungfrom?”heasked,turningtoShinshín.“Didn’thevanishsomewhere?”

           “Hedid,”repliedShinshín.

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