love? What do you think? Was anybody ever so much in love with you? And he’s very nice, very, very nice. Only not quite my taste—he is so narrow, like the dining-room clock. … Don’t you understand? Narrow, you know—gray, light gray …”
“What rubbish you’re talking!” said the countess.
Natásha continued:
“Don’t you really understand? Nikólenka would understand. … Bezúkhov, now, is blue, dark-blue and red, and he is square.”
“You flirt with him too,” said the countess, laughing.
“No, he is a Freemason, I have found out. He is fine, dark-blue and red. … How can I explain it to you?”
“Little countess!” the count’s voice called from behind the door. “You’re not asleep?” Natásha jumped up, snatched up her slippers, and ran barefoot to her own room.
It was a long time before she could sleep. She kept thinking that no one could