I. Absolute continuity of motion

like the three sons of one of her acquaintances, struck her that summer for the first time with cruel clearness. She tried to get Nikoláy back and wished to go herself to join Pétya, or to get him an appointment somewhere in Petersburg, but neither of these proved possible. Pétya could not return unless his regiment did so or unless he was transferred to another regiment on active service. Nikoláy was somewhere with the army and had not sent a word since his last letter, in which he had given a detailed account of his meeting with Princess Márya. The countess did not sleep at night, or when she did fall asleep dreamed that she saw her sons lying dead. After many consultations and conversations, the count at last devised means to tranquillize her. He got Pétya transferred from Obolénski’s regiment to Bezúkhov’s, which was in training near Moscow. Though Pétya would remain in the service, this transfer would give the countess the consolation of seeing at least one of her sons under her wing, and she hoped to arrange matters for her Pétya so as not to let him go again, but always get him appointed to places where he could not possibly take part in a battle. As long as Nicolas alone was in danger the countess imagined that she loved her firstborn more than all her other children and even reproached herself for it; but when her youngest: the scapegrace who had been bad at lessons, was always breaking things in the house and making himself a nuisance to everybody, that snub-nosed Pétya with his merry black eyes and fresh rosy cheeks where soft down was just beginning to show⁠—when he was thrown amid those big,