“If she goes to her cousin first and then to another lady, she will be my wife,” said Prince Andréy to himself quite to his own surprise, as he watched her. She did go first to her cousin.

“What rubbish sometimes enters one’s head!” thought Prince Andréy, “but what is certain is that that girl is so charming, so original, that she won’t be dancing here a month before she will be married.⁠ ⁠… Such as she are rare here,” he thought, as Natásha, readjusting a rose that was slipping on her bodice, settled herself beside him.

When the cotillion was over the old count in his blue coat came up to the dancers. He invited Prince Andréy to come and see them, and asked his daughter whether she was enjoying herself. Natásha did not answer at once but only looked up with a smile that said reproachfully: “How can you ask such a question?”