bit of nibbled sugar, and asked if anything more would be wanted.
“No. Give me the book,” said the stranger.
The servant handed him a book which Pierre took to be a devotional work, and the traveler became absorbed in it. Pierre looked at him.
All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and again, leaning with his arms on the back of the sofa, sat in his former position with his eyes shut. Pierre looked at him and had not time to turn away when the old man, opening his eyes, fixed his steady and severe gaze straight on Pierre’s face.
Pierre felt confused and wished to avoid that look, but the bright old eyes attracted him irresistibly.
II
“I have the pleasure of addressing Count Bezúkhov, if I am not mistaken,” said the stranger in a deliberate