Война и мир

Chapter 1

           “Wostóv,getup!”

           Rostóv,rubbinghiseyesthatseemedgluedtogether,raisedhisdisheveledheadfromthehotpillow.

           “Why,isitlate?”

           “Late!It’snearlyteno’clock,”answeredNatásha’svoice.Arustleofstarchedpetticoatsandthewhisperingandlaughterofgirls’voicescamefromtheadjoiningroom.Thedoorwasopenedacrackandtherewasaglimpseofsomethingblue,ofribbons,blackhair,andmerryfaces.ItwasNatásha,Sónya,andPétya,whohadcometoseewhethertheyweregettingup.

           “Nicholas!Getup!”Natásha’svoicewasagainheardatthedoor.

           “Directly!”

           Meanwhile,Pétya,havingfoundandseizedthesabersintheouterroom,withthedelightboysfeelatthesightofamilitaryelderbrother,andforgettingthatitwasunbecomingforthegirlstoseemenundressed,openedthebedroomdoor.

           “Isthisyoursaber?”heshouted.

           Thegirlssprangaside.Denísovhidhishairylegsundertheblanket,lookingwithascaredfaceathiscomradeforhelp.Thedoor,havingletPétyain,closedagain.Asoundoflaughtercamefrombehindit.

           “Nicholas!Comeoutinyourdressinggown!”saidNatásha’svoice.

           “Isthisyoursaber?”askedPétya.“Orisityours?”hesaid,addressingtheblack-mustachedDenísovwithserviledeference.

           Rostóvhurriedlyputsomethingonhisfeet,drewonhisdressinggown,andwentout.Natáshahadputononespurredbootandwasjustgettingherfootintotheother.Sónya,whenhecamein,wastwirlingroundandwasabouttoexpandherdressesintoaballoonandsitdown.

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