to wail like a baby without knowing why, except that Sónya was crying. Sónya tried to lift her head to answer but could not, and hid her face still deeper in the bed. Natásha wept, sitting on the blue-striped feather bed and hugging her friend. With an effort Sónya sat up and began wiping her eyes and explaining.
“Nikólenka is going away in a week’s time, his … papers … have come … he told me himself … but still I should not cry,” and she showed a paper she held in her hand—with the verses Nikoláy had written, “still, I should not cry, but you can’t … no one can understand … what a soul he has!”
And she began to cry again because he had such a noble soul.
“It’s all very well for you … I am not envious … I love you and Borís also,” she went on, gaining a little strength; “he is nice … there are no difficulties in your way. … But Nikoláy is my cousin … one would have to … the Metropolitan himself … and even then it can’t be done.
And besides, if she tells Mamma” (Sónya looked upon the countess as her mother and called her so) “that I am spoiling Nikoláy’s career and am heartless and ungrateful, while truly … God is my witness,” and she made the sign of the cross, “I love her so much, and all of you, only Véra … And what for? What have I done to her? I am so grateful to you that I would willingly sacrifice everything, only I have nothing. …”
Sónya could not continue, and again hid her