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"
Where
is
he
?
"
she
asked
again
,
addressing
them
all
.
"
He
is
downstairs
.
Natásha
is
with
him
,
"
answered
Sónya
,
flushing
.
"
We
have
sent
to
ask
.
I
think
you
must
be
tired
,
Princess
.
"
Tears
of
vexation
showed
themselves
in
Princess
Mary
's
eyes
.
She
turned
away
and
was
about
to
ask
the
countess
again
how
to
go
to
him
,
when
light
,
impetuous
,
and
seemingly
buoyant
steps
were
heard
at
the
door
.
The
princess
looked
round
and
saw
Natásha
coming
in
,
almost
running
--
that
Natásha
whom
she
had
liked
so
little
at
their
meeting
in
Moscow
long
since
.
But
hardly
had
the
princess
looked
at
Natásha
's
face
before
she
realized
that
here
was
a
real
comrade
in
her
grief
,
and
consequently
a
friend
.
She
ran
to
meet
her
,
embraced
her
,
and
began
to
cry
on
her
shoulder
.
As
soon
as
Natásha
,
sitting
at
the
head
of
Prince
Andrew
's
bed
,
heard
of
Princess
Mary
's
arrival
,
she
softly
left
his
room
and
hastened
to
her
with
those
swift
steps
that
had
sounded
buoyant
to
Princess
Mary
.
There
was
only
one
expression
on
her
agitated
face
when
she
ran
into
the
drawing
room
--
that
of
love
--
boundless
love
for
him
,
for
her
,
and
for
all
that
was
near
to
the
man
she
loved
;
and
of
pity
,
suffering
for
others
,
and
passionate
desire
to
give
herself
entirely
to
helping
them
.
It
was
plain
that
at
that
moment
there
was
in
Natásha
's
heart
no
thought
of
herself
or
of
her
own
relations
with
Prince
Andrew
.
Princess
Mary
,
with
her
acute
sensibility
,
understood
all
this
at
the
first
glance
at
Natásha
's
face
,
and
wept
on
her
shoulder
with
sorrowful
pleasure
.
"
Come
,
come
to
him
,
Mary
,
"
said
Natásha
,
leading
her
into
the
other
room
.
Princess
Mary
raised
her
head
,
dried
her
eyes
,
and
turned
to
Natásha
.
She
felt
that
from
her
she
would
be
able
to
understand
and
learn
everything
.
"
How
...
"
she
began
her
question
but
stopped
short
.
