his hand carefully, bent her face over it and began kissing it, just touching it lightly with her lips.
“Forgive me!” she whispered, raising her head and glancing at him. “Forgive me!”
“I love you,” said Prince Andréy.
“Forgive … !”
“Forgive what?” he asked.
“Forgive me for what I have done!” faltered Natásha in a scarcely audible, broken whisper, and began kissing his hand more rapidly, just touching it with her lips.
“I love you more, better than before,” said Prince Andréy, lifting her face with his hand so as to look into her eyes.
Those eyes, filled with happy tears, gazed at him timidly, compassionately, and with joyous love. Natásha’s thin pale face, with its swollen lips, was more than plain—it was dreadful. But Prince Andréy did not see that, he saw her shining eyes which were beautiful. They heard the sound of