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Chapter 1

           Thoughtsofhomegrewstrongerthenearerheapproachedit—farstronger,asthoughthisfeelingofhiswassubjecttothelawbywhichtheforceofattractionisininverseproportiontothesquareofthedistance.AtthelastpoststationbeforeOtrádnoehegavethedriverathree-rubletip,andonarrivingheranbreathlessly,likeaboy,upthestepsofhishome.

           Aftertheraptureofmeeting,andafterthatoddfeelingofunsatisfiedexpectation—thefeelingthat“everythingisjustthesame,sowhydidIhurry?”—Nicholasbegantosettledowninhisoldhomeworld.Hisfatherandmotherweremuchthesame,onlyalittleolder.Whatwasnewinthemwasacertainuneasinessandoccasionaldiscord,whichthereusednottobe,andwhich,asNicholassoonfoundout,wasduetothebadstateoftheiraffairs.Sónyawasnearlytwenty;shehadstoppedgrowingprettierandpromisednothingmorethanshewasalready,butthatwasenough.SheexhaledhappinessandlovefromthetimeNicholasreturned,andthefaithful,unalterableloveofthisgirlhadagladdeningeffectonhim.PétyaandNatáshasurprisedNicholasmost.Pétyawasabighandsomeboyofthirteen,merry,witty,andmischievous,withavoicethatwasalreadybreaking.AsforNatásha,foralongwhileNicholaswonderedandlaughedwheneverhelookedather.

           “You’renotthesameatall,”hesaid.

           “How?AmIuglier?”

           “Onthecontrary,butwhatdignity?Aprincess!”hewhisperedtoher.

           “Yes,yes,yes!”criedNatásha,joyfully.

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