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"
I
know
!
Cyril
Matvéich
...
but
he
is
old
.
"
"
He
was
not
always
old
.
But
this
is
what
I
'll
do
,
Natásha
,
I
'll
have
a
talk
with
Borís
.
He
need
not
come
so
often
...
"
"
Why
not
,
if
he
likes
to
?
"
"
Because
I
know
it
will
end
in
nothing
...
"
"
How
can
you
know
?
No
,
Mamma
,
do
n't
speak
to
him
!
What
nonsense
!
"
said
Natásha
in
the
tone
of
one
being
deprived
of
her
property
.
"
Well
,
I
wo
n't
marry
,
but
let
him
come
if
he
enjoys
it
and
I
enjoy
it
.
"
Natásha
smiled
and
looked
at
her
mother
.
"
Not
to
marry
,
but
just
so
,
"
she
added
.
"
How
so
,
my
pet
?
"
"
Just
so
.
There
's
no
need
for
me
to
marry
him
.
But
...
just
so
.
"
"
Just
so
,
just
so
,
"
repeated
the
countess
,
and
shaking
all
over
,
she
went
off
into
a
good
humored
,
unexpected
,
elderly
laugh
.
"
Do
n't
laugh
,
stop
!
"
cried
Natásha
.
"
You
're
shaking
the
whole
bed
!
You
're
awfully
like
me
,
just
such
another
giggler
...
Wait
...
"
and
she
seized
the
countess
'
hands
and
kissed
a
knuckle
of
the
little
finger
,
saying
,
"
June
,
"
and
continued
,
kissing
,
"
July
,
August
,
"
on
the
other
hand
.
"
But
,
Mamma
,
is
he
very
much
in
love
?
What
do
you
think
?
Was
anybody
ever
so
much
in
love
with
you
?
And
he
's
very
nice
,
very
,
very
nice
.
Only
not
quite
my
taste
--
he
is
so
narrow
,
like
the
dining-room
clock
...
Do
n't
you
understand
?
Narrow
,
you
know
--
gray
,
light
gray
...
"
