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Updated: June 10, 2025
And so it was decided to send the letters and money by the Grand Duke's courier to Boris and Boris was to forward them to Nicholas. The letters were from the old count, the countess, Petya, Vera, Natasha, and Sonya, and finally there were six thousand rubles for his outfit and various other things the old count sent to his son.
"Well, then, you know," Nicholas went on, growing hot at the mere recollection of their discussion, "he wanted to convince me that it is every honest man's duty to go against the government, and that the oath of allegiance and duty... I am sorry you weren't there. They all fell on me Denisov and Natasha... Natasha is absurd. How she rules over him!
With a slight inclination of her head, Natasha stepped back quickly to Mavra Kuzminichna, who stood talking compassionately to the officer. "They may. He says they may!" whispered Natasha.
Sometimes Natasha noticed embarrassment and awkwardness on his part in her presence, especially when he wanted to do something to please her, or feared that something they spoke of would awaken memories distressing to her. She noticed this and attributed it to his general kindness and shyness, which she imagined must be the same toward everyone as it was to her.
"In two days I'll come for the writing, and be sure my passport is ready!" "Very well. I'll do it," consented Bodlevski. And Natasha began to dictate to him the wording of the letter. As soon as she was gone the engraver got to work.
He felt the weight of that resolute and affectionate scrutiny and glanced at her occasionally. Boris' uniform, spurs, tie, and the way his hair was brushed were all comme il faut and in the latest fashion. This Natasha noticed at once.
He sees the facts of his story from a different point of view and represents them in a fresh light. It does not mean that he modifies their course, that he forces them in a wrong direction and makes Natasha act in a manner conflicting with his first idea.
"Because I know it will end in nothing...." "How can you know? No, Mamma, don't speak to him! What nonsense!" said Natasha in the tone of one being deprived of her property. "Well, I won't marry, but let him come if he enjoys it and I enjoy it." Natasha smiled and looked at her mother. "Not to marry, but just so," she added. "How so, my pet?" "Just so. There's no need for me to marry him.
She looked at Natasha's dresses and praised them, as well as a new dress of her own made of "metallic gauze," which she had received from Paris, and advised Natasha to have one like it. "But anything suits you, my charmer!" she remarked. A smile of pleasure never left Natasha's face.
She thought of Natasha and of her own youth, and of how there was something unnatural and dreadful in this impending marriage of Natasha and Prince Andrew. Dimmler, who had seated himself beside the countess, listened with closed eyes. "Ah, Countess," he said at last, "that's a European talent, she has nothing to learn what softness, tenderness, and strength...."
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