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"
Borís
,
too
,
with
his
friend
Zhilínski
,
came
to
see
the
Preobrazhénsk
banquet
.
On
his
way
back
,
he
noticed
Rostóv
standing
by
the
corner
of
a
house
.
"
Rostóv
!
How
d'you
do
?
We
missed
one
another
,
"
he
said
,
and
could
not
refrain
from
asking
what
was
the
matter
,
so
strangely
dismal
and
troubled
was
Rostóv
's
face
.
"
Nothing
,
nothing
,
"
replied
Rostóv
.
"
You
'll
call
round
?
"
"
Yes
,
I
will
.
"
Rostóv
stood
at
that
corner
for
a
long
time
,
watching
the
feast
from
a
distance
.
In
his
mind
,
a
painful
process
was
going
on
which
he
could
not
bring
to
a
conclusion
.
Terrible
doubts
rose
in
his
soul
.
Now
he
remembered
Denísov
with
his
changed
expression
,
his
submission
,
and
the
whole
hospital
,
with
arms
and
legs
torn
off
and
its
dirt
and
disease
.
So
vividly
did
he
recall
that
hospital
stench
of
dead
flesh
that
he
looked
round
to
see
where
the
smell
came
from
.
Next
he
thought
of
that
self-satisfied
Bonaparte
,
with
his
small
white
hand
,
who
was
now
an
Emperor
,
liked
and
respected
by
Alexander
.
Then
why
those
severed
arms
and
legs
and
those
dead
men
?
...
Then
again
he
thought
of
Lázarev
rewarded
and
Denísov
punished
and
unpardoned
.
He
caught
himself
harboring
such
strange
thoughts
that
he
was
frightened
.
The
smell
of
the
food
the
Preobrazhénskis
were
eating
and
a
sense
of
hunger
recalled
him
from
these
reflections
;
he
had
to
get
something
to
eat
before
going
away
.
He
went
to
a
hotel
he
had
noticed
that
morning
.
There
he
found
so
many
people
,
among
them
officers
who
,
like
himself
,
had
come
in
civilian
clothes
,
that
he
had
difficulty
in
getting
a
dinner
.
Two
officers
of
his
own
division
joined
him
.
The
conversation
naturally
turned
on
the
peace
.
The
officers
,
his
comrades
,
like
most
of
the
army
,
were
dissatisfied
with
the
peace
concluded
after
the
battle
of
Friedland
.
They
said
that
had
we
held
out
a
little
longer
Napoleon
would
have
been
done
for
,
as
his
troops
had
neither
provisions
nor
ammunition
.
Nicholas
ate
and
drank
(
chiefly
the
latter
)
in
silence
.
He
finished
a
couple
of
bottles
of
wine
by
himself
.
The
process
in
his
mind
went
on
tormenting
him
without
reaching
a
conclusion
.
He
feared
to
give
way
to
his
thoughts
,
yet
could
not
get
rid
of
them
.
Suddenly
,
on
one
of
the
officers
'
saying
that
it
was
humiliating
to
look
at
the
French
,
Rostóv
began
shouting
with
uncalled-for
wrath
,
and
therefore
much
to
the
surprise
of
the
officers
:
"
How
can
you
judge
what
's
best
?
"
he
cried
,
the
blood
suddenly
rushing
to
his
face
.
"
How
can
you
judge
the
Emperor
's
actions
?
What
right
have
we
to
argue
?
We
can
not
comprehend
either
the
Emperor
's
aims
or
his
actions
!
"