第332章

第332章“whatishefeelingnow？isheconfused？isheangry？mustisetitright？”shewondered.shecouldnotrefrainfromlookinground.sheglancedstraightintohiseyes,andhisnearnessandconfidence,andthesimple-heartedwarmthofhissmilevanquishedher.shesmiledexactlyashedid,lookingstraightintohiseyes.andagain,shefeltwithhorrorthatnobarrierlaybetweenhimandher.

thecurtainroseagain.anatolewalkedoutofthebox,sereneandgood-humoured.natashawentbacktoherfather’sbox,completelyunderthespelloftheworldinwhichshefoundherself.allthatpassedbeforehereyesnowseemedtoherperfectlynatural.butontheotherhandallpreviousthoughtsofherbetrothed,ofprincessmarya,ofherlifeinthecountry,didnotoncerecurtohermind,asthoughallthatbelongedtotheremotepast.

inthefourthacttherewassomesortofdevilwhosang,wavinghisarmstilltheboardsweremovedawayunderhimandhesankintotheopening.thatwasallnatashasawofthefourthact;shefeltharassedandexcited;andthecauseofthatexcitementwaskuragin,whomshecouldnothelpwatching.astheycameoutofthetheatreanatolecameuptothem,calledtheircarriageandhelpedthemintoit.asheassistednatashahepressedherarmabovetheelbow.natasha,flushedandexcited,lookedroundathim.hegazedatherwithflashingeyesandatendersmile.

itwasonlyongettinghomethatnatashacouldformanyclearideaofwhathadhappened.allatonce,rememberingprinceandrey,shewashorrified,andattea,towhichtheyallsatdownafterthetheatre,shegroanedaloud,andflushingcrimsonranoutoftheroom.“mygod！iamruined！”shesaidtoherself.“howcouldisinktosuchadepth？”shethought.foralongwhileshesat,withherflushedfacehiddeninherhands,tryingtogetaclearideaofwhathadhappenedandunabletograspeitherwhathadhappenedorwhatshewasfeeling.everythingseemedtoherdark,obscure,anddreadful.inthatimmense,lightedhall,whereduporthadjumpedabouttomusicwithhisbarelegsonthedampboardsinhisshortjacketwithtinsel,andyounggirlsandoldmen,andthatellen,proudlyandserenelysmilinginhernakedness,hadenthusiasticallyroared“bravo”;there,inthewakeofthatellen,allhadbeenclearandsimple.butnow,alonebyherself,itwaspastcomprehending.“whatdoesitmean？whatisthatterrorifeltwithhim？whatisthemeaningofthosegnawingsofconscienceiamfeelingnow？”shethought.

tonoonebuttohermotheratnightinbednatashacouldhavetalkedofwhatshewasfeeling.sonyasheknew,withherstrictandsingle-mindedviewofthings,wouldeitherhavefailedtounderstandatall,orwouldhavebeenhorrifiedattheavowal.natashaallbyherselfhadtotryandsolvetheriddlethattormentedher

“amispoiltforprinceandrey’sloveornot？”sheaskedherself,andwithreassuringmockerysheansweredherself：“whatafooliamtoasksuchathing！whathashappenedtome？nothing.ihavedonenothing;ididnothingtoleadhimon.noonewilleverknow,andishallneverseehimagain,”shetoldherself.“soit’splainthatnothinghashappened,thatthere’snothingtoregret,thatprinceandreycanlovemestill.butwhystill？omygod,mygod,whyisn’thehere！”natashafeltcomfortedforamoment,butagainsomeinstincttoldherthatthoughthatwasalltrue,andthoughnothinghadhappened,yetsomeinstincttoldherthatalltheoldpurityofherloveforprinceandreywaslost.andagain,inherimagination,shewentoverallherconversationwithkuragin,andsawagaintheface,thegestures,andthetendersmileofthathandsome,daringmanatthemomentwhenhehadpressedherarm.