“Yes, that is true, Prince. In our days,” continued Véra⁠—mentioning “our days” as people of limited intelligence are fond of doing, imagining that they have discovered and appraised the peculiarities of “our days” and that human characteristics change with the times⁠—“in our days a girl has so much freedom that the pleasure of being courted often stifles real feeling in her. And it must be confessed that Nathalie is very susceptible.” This return to the subject of Natáli caused Prince Andréy to knit his brows with discomfort: he was about to rise, but Véra continued with a still more subtle smile:

“I think no one has been more courted than she,” she went on, “but till quite lately she never cared seriously for anyone. Now you know, Count,” she said to Pierre, “even our dear cousin Borís, who, between ourselves, was very far gone in the land of tenderness⁠ ⁠…” (alluding to a map of love much in vogue at that time).

Prince Andréy frowned and remained silent.

“You are friendly with Borís, aren’t you?” asked Véra.

“Yes, I know him.⁠ ⁠…”