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- Стр. 927/1273
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The
calèche
in
which
Prince
Andrew
was
being
taken
attracted
Sónya
's
attention
as
it
passed
the
front
porch
.
With
the
help
of
a
maid
she
was
arranging
a
seat
for
the
countess
in
the
huge
high
coach
that
stood
at
the
entrance
.
"
Whose
calèche
is
that
?
"
she
inquired
,
leaning
out
of
the
carriage
window
.
"
Why
,
did
n't
you
know
,
Miss
?
"
replied
the
maid
.
"
The
wounded
prince
:
he
spent
the
night
in
our
house
and
is
going
with
us
.
"
"
But
who
is
it
?
What
's
his
name
?
"
"
It
's
our
intended
that
was
--
Prince
Bolkónski
himself
!
They
say
he
is
dying
,
"
replied
the
maid
with
a
sigh
.
Sónya
jumped
out
of
the
coach
and
ran
to
the
countess
.
The
countess
,
tired
out
and
already
dressed
in
shawl
and
bonnet
for
her
journey
,
was
pacing
up
and
down
the
drawing
room
,
waiting
for
the
household
to
assemble
for
the
usual
silent
prayer
with
closed
doors
before
starting
.
Natásha
was
not
in
the
room
.
"
Mamma
,
"
said
Sónya
,
"
Prince
Andrew
is
here
,
mortally
wounded
.
He
is
going
with
us
.
"
The
countess
opened
her
eyes
in
dismay
and
,
seizing
Sónya
's
arm
,
glanced
around
.
"
Natásha
?
"
she
murmured
.
At
that
moment
this
news
had
only
one
significance
for
both
of
them
.
They
knew
their
Natásha
,
and
alarm
as
to
what
would
happen
if
she
heard
this
news
stifled
all
sympathy
for
the
man
they
both
liked
.
