BOOK FIFTEEN: 1812 - 13
18. CHAPTER XVIII
It was a long time before Pierre could fall asleep that night. He
paced up and down his room, now turning his thoughts on a difficult
problem and frowning, now suddenly shrugging his shoulders and
wincing, and now smiling happily.
He was thinking of Prince Andrew, of Natasha, and of their love,
at one moment jealous of her past, then reproaching himself for that
feeling. It was already six in the morning and he still paced up and
down the room.
"Well, what's to be done if it cannot be avoided? What's to be done?
Evidently it has to be so," said he to himself, and hastily undressing
he got into bed, happy and agitated but free from hesitation or
indecision.
"Strange and impossible as such happiness seems, I must do
everything that she and I may be man and wife," he told himself.
A few days previously Pierre had decided to go to Petersburg on
the Friday. When he awoke on the Thursday, Savelich came to ask him
about packing for the journey.
"What, to Petersburg? What is Petersburg? Who is there in
Petersburg?" he asked involuntarily, though only to himself. "Oh, yes,
long ago before this happened I did for some reason mean to go to
Petersburg," he reflected. "Why? But perhaps I shall go. What a good
fellow he is and how attentive, and how he remembers everything," he
thought, looking at Savelich's old face, "and what a pleasant smile he
has!"
"Well, Savelich, do you still not wish to accept your freedom?"
Pierre asked him.
"What's the good of freedom to me, your excellency? We lived under
the late count- the kingdom of heaven be his!- and we have lived under
you too, without ever being wronged."
"And your children?"
"The children will live just the same. With such masters one can
live."
"But what about my heirs?" said Pierre. "Supposing I suddenly
marry... it might happen," he added with an involuntary smile.
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