BOOK ONE: 1805
13. CHAPTER XIII
 
When Natasha ran out of the drawing room she only went as far as the
 conservatory. There she paused and stood listening to the conversation
 in the drawing room, waiting for Boris to come out. She was already
 growing impatient, and stamped her foot, ready to cry at his not
 coming at once, when she heard the young man's discreet steps
 approaching neither quickly nor slowly. At this Natasha dashed swiftly
 among the flower tubs and hid there. 
Boris paused in the middle of the room, looked round, brushed a
 little dust from the sleeve of his uniform, and going up to a mirror
 examined his handsome face. Natasha, very still, peered out from her
 ambush, waiting to see what he would do. He stood a little while
 before the glass, smiled, and walked toward the other door. Natasha
 was about to call him but changed her mind. "Let him look for me,"
 thought she. Hardly had Boris gone than Sonya, flushed, in tears,
 and muttering angrily, came in at the other door. Natasha checked
 her first impulse to run out to her, and remained in her hiding place,
 watching- as under an invisible cap- to see what went on in the world.
 She was experiencing a new and peculiar pleasure. Sonya, muttering
 to herself, kept looking round toward the drawing-room door. It opened
 and Nicholas came in. 
"Sonya, what is the matter with you? How can you?" said he,
 running up to her. 
"It's nothing, nothing; leave me alone!" sobbed Sonya. 
"Ah, I know what it is." 
"Well, if you do, so much the better, and you can go back to her!" 
"So-o-onya! Look here! How can you torture me and yourself like
 that, for a mere fancy?" said Nicholas taking her hand. 
Sonya did not pull it away, and left off crying. Natasha, not
 stirring and scarcely breathing, watched from her ambush with
 sparkling eyes. "What will happen now?" thought she. 
"Sonya! What is anyone in the world to me? You alone are
 everything!" said Nicholas. "And I will prove it to you." 
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