There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into the drawing room⁠—that of love⁠—boundless love for him, for her, and for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping them. It was plain that at that moment there was in Natásha’s heart no thought of herself or of her own relations with Prince Andréy.

Princess Márya, with her acute sensibility, understood all this at the first glance at Natásha’s face, and wept on her shoulder with sorrowful pleasure.

“Come, come to him, Márya,” said Natásha, leading her into the other room.

Princess Márya raised her head, dried her eyes, and turned to Natásha. She felt that from her she would be able to understand and learn everything.

“How⁠ ⁠…” she began her question but stopped short.