He came quickly up to Pierre and embraced and kissed him. “Goodbye, be off!” he shouted. “Whether we meet again or not …” and turning away hurriedly he entered the shed.
It was already dark, and Pierre could not make out whether the expression of Prince Andréy’s face was angry or tender.
For some time he stood in silence considering whether he should follow him or go away. “No, he does not want it!” Pierre concluded. “And I know that this is our last meeting!” He sighed deeply and rode back to Górki.
On reentering the shed Prince Andréy lay down on a rug, but he could not sleep.
He closed his eyes. One picture succeeded another in his imagination. On one of them he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly recalled an evening in Petersburg. Natásha with animated and excited face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest. She incoherently described the depths of the forest, her feelings, and a talk with a beekeeper she met, and constantly interrupted her story to say: “No, I can’t! I’m not telling it right; no, you don’t understand,” though he encouraged