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Mildred is an idealist, and Nona, you are a dreamer. You think you are not, but I expect you have more of your mother's blood in you than you realize. I am desperately sorry for Sonya Valesky. I think she is an exquisite and much-wronged woman with the courage and devotion necessary to a martyr. But I don't see that you are particularly fitted to follow her example, Nona.
"Well, anyway," thought Sonya as she stood in the dark passage, "now or never I must prove that I remember the family's goodness to me and that I love Nicholas. Yes! If I don't sleep for three nights I'll not leave this passage and will hold her back by force and will and not let the family be disgraced," thought she. Anatole had lately moved to Dolokhov's.
Besides, you are an American girl and can have only a slight acquaintance with Sonya." Again Nona Davis did not reply immediately. How much or how little should she take the Russian officer into her confidence? However, it did not seem to her of much importance then. "You are mistaken. I am not simply an American girl," Nona explained quietly.
However, since in Maeterlinck's play Melisande was seeking the light in the depth of the water, perhaps after all the two titles had almost a similar meaning. Anyhow, by the pool Sonya chose to make a confession. "Do you remember, Nona, once long ago, or perhaps it just seems a long time to me, you and I met a Colonel Dalton, an officer in the British army whom I had known before.
Besides, there were no chairs in the Red Cross girls' bedroom, only the three beds and some stools, so it was simpler to lie down than be seated. "I have a long story to tell you, Bab, and I want your advice, only I think we had best wait for Mildred, so you may not have to hear everything twice," Nona began. "You mean about Sonya Valesky?" Barbara queried.
I love him!" "Then I won't let it come to that... I shall tell!" cried Sonya, bursting into tears. "What do you mean? For God's sake... If you tell, you are my enemy!" declared Natasha. "You want me to be miserable, you want us to be separated...." When she saw Natasha's fright, Sonya shed tears of shame and pity for her friend. "But what has happened between you?" she asked.
What would Sonya have done without the glad consciousness that she had not undressed during the first three nights, in order to be ready to carry out all the doctor's injunctions with precision, and that she still kept awake at night so as not to miss the proper time when the slightly harmful pills in the little gilt box had to be administered?
Everything essential had already been done; feet, hands, necks, and ears washed, perfumed, and powdered, as befits a ball; the openwork silk stockings and white satin shoes with ribbons were already on; the hairdressing was almost done. Sonya was finishing dressing and so was the countess, but Natasha, who had bustled about helping them all, was behindhand.
After tea, Nicholas, Sonya, and Natasha went to the sitting room, to their favorite corner where their most intimate talks always began. "Does it ever happen to you," said Natasha to her brother, when they settled down in the sitting room, "does it ever happen to you to feel as if there were nothing more to come nothing; that everything good is past? And to feel not exactly dull, but sad?"
The countess watched the things being packed, was dissatisfied with everything, was constantly in pursuit of Petya who was always running away from her, and was jealous of Natasha with whom he spent all his time. Sonya alone directed the practical side of matters by getting things packed. But of late Sonya had been particularly sad and silent.
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