Chapter 18

           

           ItwasalongtimebeforePierrecouldfallasleepthatnight.Hepacedupanddownhisroom,nowturninghisthoughtsonadifficultproblemandfrowning,nowsuddenlyshrugginghisshouldersandwincing,andnowsmilinghappily.

           HewasthinkingofPrinceAndrew,ofNatásha,andoftheirlove,atonemomentjealousofherpast,thenreproachinghimselfforthatfeeling.Itwasalreadysixinthemorningandhestillpacedupanddowntheroom.

           “Well,what’stobedoneifitcannotbeavoided?What’stobedone?Evidentlyithastobeso,”saidhetohimself,andhastilyundressinghegotintobed,happyandagitatedbutfreefromhesitationorindecision.

           “Strangeandimpossibleassuchhappinessseems,ImustdoeverythingthatsheandImaybemanandwife,”hetoldhimself.

           AfewdayspreviouslyPierrehaddecidedtogotoPetersburgontheFriday.WhenheawokeontheThursday,Savélichcametoaskhimaboutpackingforthejourney.

           “What,toPetersburg?WhatisPetersburg?WhoisthereinPetersburg?”heaskedinvoluntarily,thoughonlytohimself.“Oh,yes,longagobeforethishappenedIdidforsomereasonmeantogotoPetersburg,”hereflected.“Why?ButperhapsIshallgo.Whatagoodfellowheisandhowattentive,andhowherememberseverything,”hethought,lookingatSavélich’soldface,“andwhatapleasantsmilehehas!”

           “Well,Savélich,doyoustillnotwishtoacceptyourfreedom?”Pierreaskedhim.

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