Natásha, animated and excited, looked about her with wide-open frightened eyes and seemed merrier than usual. She understood hardly anything that went on that evening. They danced the écossaise and the Grossvater. Her father asked her to come home, but she begged to remain. Wherever she went and whomever she was speaking to, she felt his eyes upon her. Later on she recalled how she had asked her father to let her go to the dressing room to rearrange her dress, that Elèn had followed her and spoken laughingly of her brother’s love, and that she again met Anatole in the little sitting room. Elèn had disappeared leaving them alone, and Anatole had taken her hand and said in a tender voice:

“I cannot come to visit you but is it possible that I shall never see you? I love you madly. Can I never⁠ ⁠… ?” and, blocking her path, he brought his face close to hers.