第353章

第353章thateveningpierrewenttotherostovs’tofulfilprinceandrey’scommission.natashawasinbed,thecountwasattheclub,andpierre,aftergivingtheletterstosonya,wentintoseemaryadmitryevna,whowasinterestedtoknowhowprinceandreyhadtakenthenews.tenminuteslater,sonyacameintomaryadmitryevna.

“natashainsistsonseeingcountpyotrkirillitch,”shesaid.

“why,arewetotakehimuptoher,eh？why,youareallinamuddlethere,”saidmaryadmitryevna.

“no,shehasdressedandgoneintothedrawing-room,”saidsonya.

maryadmitryevnacouldonlyshrughershoulders.“whenwillthecountesscome？shehasquitewornmeout！youmindnow,don’ttellhereverything,”shesaidtopierre.“onehasn’tthehearttoscoldher,she’ssopiteous,poorthing.”

natashawasstandinginthemiddleofthedrawing-room,lookingthinner,andwithapale,setface（notatallovercomewithshame,aspierrehadexpectedtoseeher）.whenpierreappearedinthedoorway,shemadeahurriedmovement,evidentlyinuncertaintywhethertogotomeethim,ortowaitforhimtocometoher.

pierrewenthurriedlytowardsher.hethoughtshewouldgivehimherhandasusual.butcomingnearhimshestopped,breathinghard,andlettingherhandshanglifelessly,exactlyinthesameposeinwhichsheusedtostandinthemiddleoftheroomtosing,butwithanutterlydifferentexpression.

“pyotrkirillitch,”shebegan,speakingquickly,“princebolkonskywasyourfriend—heisyourfriend,”shecorrectedherself.（itseemedtoherthateverythingwasinthepast,andnowallwaschanged.）“hetoldmetoapplytoyou…”

pierrechokeddumblyashelookedather.tillthenhehadinhisheartblamedher,andtriedtodespiseher;butnowhefeltsosorryforher,thattherewasnoroominhisheartforblame.

“heisherenow,tellhim…tofor…toforgiveme.”shestoppedshortandbreathedevenmorequickly,butshedidnotweep.

“yes…iwilltellhim,”saidpierre;“but…”hedidnotknowwhattosay.

natashawasevidentlydismayedattheideathatmighthaveoccurredtopierre.

“no,iknowthateverythingisover,”shesaidhurriedly.“no,thatcanneverbe.i’monlywretchedatthewrongihavedonehim.onlytellhimthatibeghimtoforgive,toforgive,forgivemeforeverything…”herwholebodywasheaving;shesatdownonachair.

afeelingofpityhehadneverknownbeforefloodedpierre’sheart.

“iwilltellhim,iwilltellhimeverythingoncemore,”saidpierre;“but…ishouldliketoknowonething…”

“toknowwhat？”natasha’seyesasked.

“ishouldliketoknow,didyoulove…”pierredidnotknowwhattocallanatole,andflushedatthethoughtofhim—“didyoulovethatbadman？”

“don’tcallhimbad,”saidnatasha.“butidon’t…know,idon’tknow…”shebegancryingagain,andpierrewasmorethaneveroverwhelmedwithpity,tenderness,andlove.hefeltthetearstricklingunderhisspectacles,andhopedtheywouldnotbenoticed.