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"
Well
,
that
's
all
--
everything
,
"
said
Natásha
.
She
got
up
quickly
just
as
Nicholas
entered
,
almost
ran
to
the
door
which
was
hidden
by
curtains
,
struck
her
head
against
it
,
and
rushed
from
the
room
with
a
moan
either
of
pain
or
sorrow
.
Pierre
gazed
at
the
door
through
which
she
had
disappeared
and
did
not
understand
why
he
suddenly
felt
all
alone
in
the
world
Princess
Mary
roused
him
from
his
abstraction
by
drawing
his
attention
to
her
nephew
who
had
entered
the
room
.
At
that
moment
of
emotional
tenderness
young
Nicholas
'
face
,
which
resembled
his
father
's
,
affected
Pierre
so
much
that
when
he
had
kissed
the
boy
he
got
up
quickly
,
took
out
his
handkerchief
,
and
went
to
the
window
.
He
wished
to
take
leave
of
Princess
Mary
,
but
she
would
not
let
him
go
.
"
No
,
Natásha
and
I
sometimes
do
n't
go
to
sleep
till
after
two
,
so
please
do
n't
go
.
I
will
order
supper
.
Go
downstairs
,
we
will
come
immediately
.
"
Before
Pierre
left
the
room
Princess
Mary
told
him
:
"
This
is
the
first
time
she
has
talked
of
him
like
that
.
"
Pierre
was
shown
into
the
large
,
brightly
lit
dining
room
;
a
few
minutes
later
he
heard
footsteps
and
Princess
Mary
entered
with
Natásha
.
Natásha
was
calm
,
though
a
severe
and
grave
expression
had
again
settled
on
her
face
.
They
all
three
of
them
now
experienced
that
feeling
of
awkwardness
which
usually
follows
after
a
serious
and
heartfelt
talk
.
It
is
impossible
to
go
back
to
the
same
conversation
,
to
talk
of
trifles
is
awkward
,
and
yet
the
desire
to
speak
is
there
and
silence
seems
like
affectation
.
They
went
silently
to
table
.
The
footmen
drew
back
the
chairs
and
pushed
them
up
again
.
Pierre
unfolded
his
cold
table
napkin
and
,
resolving
to
break
the
silence
,
looked
at
Natásha
and
at
Princess
Mary
.
They
had
evidently
both
formed
the
same
resolution
;
the
eyes
of
both
shone
with
satisfaction
and
a
confession
that
besides
sorrow
life
also
has
joy
.
"
Do
you
take
vodka
,
Count
?
"
asked
Princess
Mary
,
and
those
words
suddenly
banished
the
shadows
of
the
past
.
"
Now
tell
us
about
yourself
,
"
said
she
.
"
One
hears
such
improbable
wonders
about
you
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
replied
Pierre
with
the
smile
of
mild
irony
now
habitual
to
him
.
"
They
even
tell
me
wonders
I
myself
never
dreamed
of
!
Mary
Abrámovna
invited
me
to
her
house
and
kept
telling
me
what
had
happened
,
or
ought
to
have
happened
,
to
me
.
Stepán
Stepánych
also
instructed
me
how
I
ought
to
tell
of
my
experiences
.
In
general
I
have
noticed
that
it
is
very
easy
to
be
an
interesting
man
(
I
am
an
interesting
man
now
)
;
people
invite
me
out
and
tell
me
all
about
myself
.
"
