This very sentence about Countess Zúbova and this same laugh Prince Andréy had already heard from his wife in the presence of others some five times. He entered the room softly. The little princess, plump and rosy, was sitting in an easy chair with her work in her hands, talking incessantly, repeating Petersburg reminiscences and even phrases. Prince Andréy came up, stroked her hair, and asked if she felt rested after their journey. She answered him and continued her chatter.

The coach with six horses was waiting at the porch. It was an autumn night, so dark that the coachman could not see the carriage pole. Servants with lanterns were bustling about in the porch. The immense house was brilliant with lights shining through its lofty windows. The domestic serfs were crowding in the hall, waiting to bid goodbye to the young prince. The members of the household were all gathered in the reception hall: Mikháil Ivánovich, Mademoiselle Bourienne, Princess Márya, and the little princess. Prince Andréy had been called to his father’s study as the latter wished to say goodbye to him alone. All were waiting for them to come out.