As she read she glanced at the sleeping Natásha, trying to find in her face an explanation of what she was reading, but did not find it. Her face was calm, gentle, and happy. Clutching her breast to keep herself from choking, Sónya, pale and trembling with fear and agitation, sat down in an armchair and burst into tears.

“How was it I noticed nothing? How could it go so far? Can she have left off loving Prince Andréy? And how could she let Kurágin go to such lengths? He is a deceiver and a villain, that’s plain! What will Nicolas, dear noble Nicolas, do when he hears of it? So this is the meaning of her excited, resolute, unnatural look the day before yesterday, yesterday, and today,” thought Sónya. “But it can’t be that she loves him! She probably opened the letter without knowing who it was from. Probably she is offended by it. She could not do such a thing!”

Sónya wiped away her tears and went up to Natásha, again scanning her face.

“Natásha!” she said, just audibly.

Natásha awoke and saw Sónya.