Márya returned to her room after her nocturnal talk with Pierre, Natásha met her on the threshold.
“He has spoken? Yes? He has spoken?” she repeated.
And a joyful yet pathetic expression which seemed to beg forgiveness for her joy settled on Natásha’s face.
“I wanted to listen at the door, but I knew you would tell me.”
Understandable and touching as the look with which Natásha gazed at her seemed to Princess Márya, and sorry as she was to see her agitation, these words pained her for a moment. She remembered her brother and his love.
“But what’s to be done? She can’t help it,” thought the princess.
And with a sad and rather stern look she told Natásha all that Pierre had said. On hearing that he was going to Petersburg Natásha was astounded.
“To Petersburg!” she repeated as if unable