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Chapter 32

           Inthatworldsomestructurewasstillbeingerectedanddidnotfall,somethingwasstillstretchingout,andthecandlewithitsredhalowasstillburning,andthesameshirtlikesphinxlaynearthedoor;butbesidesallthissomethingcreaked,therewasawhiffoffreshair,andanewwhitesphinxappeared,standingatthedoor.AndthatsphinxhadthepalefaceandshiningeyesoftheveryNatáshaofwhomhehadjustbeenthinking.

           “Oh,howoppressivethiscontinualdeliriumis,”thoughtPrinceAndrew,tryingtodrivethatfacefromhisimagination.Butthefaceremainedbeforehimwiththeforceofrealityanddrewnearer.PrinceAndrewwishedtoreturntothatformerworldofpurethought,buthecouldnot,anddeliriumdrewhimbackintoitsdomain.Thesoftwhisperingvoicecontinueditsrhythmicmurmur,somethingoppressedhimandstretchedout,andthestrangefacewasbeforehim.PrinceAndrewcollectedallhisstrengthinanefforttorecoverhissenses,hemovedalittle,andsuddenlytherewasaringinginhisears,adimnessinhiseyes,andlikeamanplungedintowaterhelostconsciousness.Whenhecametohimself,Natásha,thatsamelivingNatáshawhomofallpeoplehemostlongedtolovewiththisnewpuredivinelovethathadbeenrevealedtohim,waskneelingbeforehim.HerealizedthatitwasthereallivingNatásha,andhewasnotsurprisedbutquietlyhappy.Natásha,motionlessonherknees(shewasunabletostir),withfrightenedeyesrivetedonhim,wasrestraininghersobs.Herfacewaspaleandrigid.Onlyinthelowerpartofitsomethingquivered.

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