-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Лев Толстой
-
- Война и мир
-
- Стр. 497/1273
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
sat
rather
sideways
in
the
armchair
next
to
the
countess
,
arranging
with
his
right
hand
the
cleanest
of
gloves
that
fitted
his
left
hand
like
a
skin
,
and
he
spoke
with
a
particularly
refined
compression
of
his
lips
about
the
amusements
of
the
highest
Petersburg
society
,
recalling
with
mild
irony
old
times
in
Moscow
and
Moscow
acquaintances
.
It
was
not
accidentally
,
Natásha
felt
,
that
he
alluded
,
when
speaking
of
the
highest
aristocracy
,
to
an
ambassador
's
ball
he
had
attended
,
and
to
invitations
he
had
received
from
N.N.
and
S.S.
All
this
time
Natásha
sat
silent
,
glancing
up
at
him
from
under
her
brows
.
This
gaze
disturbed
and
confused
Borís
more
and
more
.
He
looked
round
more
frequently
toward
her
,
and
broke
off
in
what
he
was
saying
.
He
did
not
stay
more
than
ten
minutes
,
then
rose
and
took
his
leave
.
The
same
inquisitive
,
challenging
,
and
rather
mocking
eyes
still
looked
at
him
.
After
his
first
visit
Borís
said
to
himself
that
Natásha
attracted
him
just
as
much
as
ever
,
but
that
he
must
not
yield
to
that
feeling
,
because
to
marry
her
,
a
girl
almost
without
fortune
,
would
mean
ruin
to
his
career
,
while
to
renew
their
former
relations
without
intending
to
marry
her
would
be
dishonorable
.
Borís
made
up
his
mind
to
avoid
meeting
Natásha
,
but
despite
that
resolution
he
called
again
a
few
days
later
and
began
calling
often
and
spending
whole
days
at
the
Rostóvs
'
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
he
ought
to
have
an
explanation
with
Natásha
and
tell
her
that
the
old
times
must
be
forgotten
,
that
in
spite
of
everything
...
she
could
not
be
his
wife
,
that
he
had
no
means
,
and
they
would
never
let
her
marry
him
But
he
failed
to
do
so
and
felt
awkward
about
entering
on
such
an
explanation
.
From
day
to
day
he
became
more
and
more
entangled
.
It
seemed
to
her
mother
and
Sónya
that
Natásha
was
in
love
with
Borís
as
of
old
.
She
sang
him
his
favorite
songs
,
showed
him
her
album
,
making
him
write
in
it
,
did
not
allow
him
to
allude
to
the
past
,
letting
it
be
understood
how
delightful
was
the
present
;
and
every
day
he
went
away
in
a
fog
,
without
having
said
what
he
meant
to
,
and
not
knowing
what
he
was
doing
or
why
he
came
,
or
how
it
would
all
end
.
He
left
off
visiting
Hélène
and
received
reproachful
notes
from
her
every
day
,
and
yet
he
continued
to
spend
whole
days
with
the
Rostóvs
.
One
night
when
the
old
countess
,
in
nightcap
and
dressing
jacket
,
without
her
false
curls
,
and
with
her
poor
little
knob
of
hair
showing
under
her
white
cotton
cap
,
knelt
sighing
and
groaning
on
a
rug
and
bowing
to
the
ground
in
prayer
,
her
door
creaked
and
Natásha
,
also
in
a
dressing
jacket
with
slippers
on
her
bare
feet
and
her
hair
in
curlpapers
,
ran
in
.
The
countess
--
her
prayerful
mood
dispelled
--
looked
round
and
frowned
.
She
was
finishing
her
last
prayer
:
"
Can
it
be
that
this
couch
will
be
my
grave
?
"
Natásha
,
flushed
and
eager
,
seeing
her
mother
in
prayer
,
suddenly
checked
her
rush
,
half
sat
down
,
and
unconsciously
put
out
her
tongue
as
if
chiding
herself
.
Seeing
that
her
mother
was
still
praying
she
ran
on
tiptoe
to
the
bed
and
,
rapidly
slipping
one
little
foot
against
the
other
,
pushed
off
her
slippers
and
jumped
onto
the
bed
the
countess
had
feared
might
become
her
grave
.
This
couch
was
high
,
with
a
feather
bed
and
five
pillows
each
smaller
than
the
one
below
.
Natásha
jumped
on
it
,
sank
into
the
feather
bed
,
rolled
over
to
the
wall
,
and
began
snuggling
up
the
bedclothes
as
she
settled
down
,
raising
her
knees
to
her
chin
,
kicking
out
and
laughing
almost
inaudibly
,
now
covering
herself
up
head
and
all
,
and
now
peeping
at
her
mother
.
The
countess
finished
her
prayers
and
came
to
the
bed
with
a
stern
face
,
but
seeing
that
Natásha
's
head
was
covered
,
she
smiled
in
her
kind
,
weak
way
.
"
Now
then
,
now
then
!
"
said
she
.
"
Mamma
,
can
we
have
a
talk
?
Yes
?
"
said
Natásha
.
"
Now
,
just
one
on
your
throat
and
another
...
that
'll
do
!
"
And
seizing
her
mother
round
the
neck
,
she
kissed
her
on
the
throat
.
In
her
behavior
to
her
mother
Natásha
seemed
rough
,
but
she
was
so
sensitive
and
tactful
that
however
she
clasped
her
mother
she
always
managed
to
do
it
without
hurting
her
or
making
her
feel
uncomfortable
or
displeased
.
"
Well
,
what
is
it
tonight
?
"
said
the
mother
,
having
arranged
her
pillows
and
waited
until
Natásha
,
after
turning
over
a
couple
of
times
,
had
settled
down
beside
her
under
the
quilt
,
spread
out
her
arms
,
and
assumed
a
serious
expression
.
These
visits
of
Natásha
's
at
night
before
the
count
returned
from
his
club
were
one
of
the
greatest
pleasures
of
both
mother
,
and
daughter
.
"
What
is
it
tonight
?
--
But
I
have
to
tell
you
...
"
