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On
the
way
back
Nicholas
drove
at
a
steady
pace
instead
of
racing
and
kept
peering
by
that
fantastic
all-transforming
light
into
Sónya
's
face
and
searching
beneath
the
eyebrows
and
mustache
for
his
former
and
his
present
Sónya
from
whom
he
had
resolved
never
to
be
parted
again
.
He
looked
and
recognizing
in
her
both
the
old
and
the
new
Sónya
,
and
being
reminded
by
the
smell
of
burnt
cork
of
the
sensation
of
her
kiss
,
inhaled
the
frosty
air
with
a
full
breast
and
,
looking
at
the
ground
flying
beneath
him
and
at
the
sparkling
sky
,
felt
himself
again
in
fairyland
.
"
Sónya
,
is
it
well
with
thee
?
"
he
asked
from
time
to
time
.
"
Yes
!
"
she
replied
.
"
And
with
thee
?
"
When
halfway
home
Nicholas
handed
the
reins
to
the
coachman
and
ran
for
a
moment
to
Natásha
's
sleigh
and
stood
on
its
wing
.
"
Natásha
!
"
he
whispered
in
French
,
"
do
you
know
I
have
made
up
my
mind
about
Sónya
?
"
"
Have
you
told
her
?
"
asked
Natásha
,
suddenly
beaming
all
over
with
joy
.
"
Oh
,
how
strange
you
are
with
that
mustache
and
those
eyebrows
!
...
Natásha
--
are
you
glad
?
"
"
I
am
so
glad
,
so
glad
!
I
was
beginning
to
be
vexed
with
you
.
I
did
not
tell
you
,
but
you
have
been
treating
her
badly
.
What
a
heart
she
has
,
Nicholas
!
I
am
horrid
sometimes
,
but
I
was
ashamed
to
be
happy
while
Sónya
was
not
,
"
continued
Natásha
.
"
Now
I
am
so
glad
!
Well
,
run
back
to
her
.
"
"
No
,
wait
a
bit
...
Oh
,
how
funny
you
look
!
"
cried
Nicholas
,
peering
into
her
face
and
finding
in
his
sister
too
something
new
,
unusual
,
and
bewitchingly
tender
that
he
had
not
seen
in
her
before
.
"
Natásha
,
it
's
magical
,
is
n't
it
?
"
