Natásha knew that she ought to go away, but was unable to do so: something gripped her throat, and regardless of manners she stared straight at Prince Andréy with wide-open eyes.

“At once? This instant!⁠ ⁠… No, it can’t be!” she thought.

Again he glanced at her, and that glance convinced her that she was not mistaken. Yes, at once, that very instant, her fate would be decided.

“Go, Natásha! I will call you,” said the countess in a whisper.

Natásha glanced with frightened imploring eyes at Prince Andréy and at her mother and went out.

“I have come, Countess, to ask for your daughter’s hand,” said Prince Andréy.

The countess’ face flushed hotly, but she said nothing.