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All
were
silent
.
The
old
prince
looked
at
Rostopchín
with
a
smile
and
wagged
his
head
approvingly
.
"
Well
,
good-by
,
your
excellency
,
keep
well
!
"
said
Rostopchín
,
getting
up
with
characteristic
briskness
and
holding
out
his
hand
to
the
prince
.
"
Good-by
,
my
dear
fellow
...
His
words
are
music
,
I
never
tire
of
hearing
him
!
"
said
the
old
prince
,
keeping
hold
of
the
hand
and
offering
his
cheek
to
be
kissed
.
Following
Rostopchín
's
example
the
others
also
rose
.
Princess
Mary
as
she
sat
listening
to
the
old
men
's
talk
and
faultfinding
,
understood
nothing
of
what
she
heard
;
she
only
wondered
whether
the
guests
had
all
observed
her
father
's
hostile
attitude
toward
her
.
She
did
not
even
notice
the
special
attentions
and
amiabilities
shown
her
during
dinner
by
Borís
Drubetskóy
,
who
was
visiting
them
for
the
third
time
already
.
Princess
Mary
turned
with
absent-minded
questioning
look
to
Pierre
,
who
hat
in
hand
and
with
a
smile
on
his
face
was
the
last
of
the
guests
to
approach
her
after
the
old
prince
had
gone
out
and
they
were
left
alone
in
the
drawing
room
.
"
May
I
stay
a
little
longer
?
"
he
said
,
letting
his
stout
body
sink
into
an
armchair
beside
her
.
"
Oh
yes
,
"
she
answered
.
"
You
noticed
nothing
?
"
her
look
asked
.
Pierre
was
in
an
agreeable
after-dinner
mood
.
He
looked
straight
before
him
and
smiled
quietly
.
"
Have
you
known
that
young
man
long
,
Princess
?
"
he
asked
.
