Chapter 22

           

           ThatsameeveningPierrewenttotheRostóvs’tofulfillthecommissionentrustedtohim.Natáshawasinbed,thecountattheclub,andPierre,aftergivingtheletterstoSónya,wenttoMáryaDmítrievnawhowasinterestedtoknowhowPrinceAndrewhadtakenthenews.TenminuteslaterSónyacametoMáryaDmítrievna.

           “NatáshainsistsonseeingCountPeterKirílovich,”saidshe.

           “Buthow?Arewetotakehimuptoher?Theroomtherehasnotbeentidiedup.”

           “No,shehasdressedandgoneintothedrawingroom,”saidSónya.

           MáryaDmítrievnaonlyshruggedhershoulders.

           “Whenwillhermothercome?Shehasworriedmetodeath!Nowmind,don’ttellhereverything!”saidshetoPierre.“Onehasn’tthehearttoscoldher,sheissomuchtobepitied,somuchtobepitied.”

           Natáshawasstandinginthemiddleofthedrawingroom,emaciated,withapalesetface,butnotatallshamefacedasPierreexpectedtofindher.Whenheappearedatthedoorshegrewflurried,evidentlyundecidedwhethertogotomeethimortowaittillhecameup.

           Pierrehastenedtoher.Hethoughtshewouldgivehimherhandasusual;butshe,steppinguptohim,stopped,breathingheavily,herarmshanginglifelesslyjustintheposesheusedtostandinwhenshewenttothemiddleoftheballroomtosing,butwithquiteadifferentexpressionofface.

           “PeterKirílovich,”shebeganrapidly,“PrinceBolkónskiwasyourfriend—isyourfriend,”shecorrectedherself.(Itseemedtoherthateverythingthathadoncebeenmustnowbedifferent.)“Hetoldmeoncetoapplytoyou...

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