War and Peace by graf Leo Tolstoy (nice books to read .txt) đ
- Author: graf Leo Tolstoy
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âPapa! Pa-pa!â he called after him, sobbing, âforgive me!â And seizing his fatherâs hand, he pressed it to his lips and burst into tears.
While father and son were having their explanation, the mother and daughter were having one not less important. NatĂĄsha came running to her mother, quite excited.
âMamma!... Mamma!... He has made me...â
âMade what?â
âMade, made me an offer, Mamma! Mamma!â she exclaimed.
The countess did not believe her ears. DenĂsov had proposed. To whom? To this chit of a girl, NatĂĄsha, who not so long ago was playing with dolls and who was still having lessons.
âDonât, NatĂĄsha! What nonsense!â she said, hoping it was a joke.
âNonsense, indeed! I am telling you the fact,â said NatĂĄsha indignantly. âI come to ask you what to do, and you call it ânonsense!ââ
The countess shrugged her shoulders.
âIf it is true that Monsieur DenĂsov has made you a proposal, tell him he is a fool, thatâs all!â
âNo, heâs not a fool!â replied NatĂĄsha indignantly and seriously.
âWell then, what do you want? Youâre all in love nowadays. Well, if you are in love, marry him!â said the countess, with a laugh of annoyance. âGood luck to you!â
âNo, Mamma, Iâm not in love with him, I suppose Iâm not in love with him.â
âWell then, tell him so.â
âMamma, are you cross? Donât be cross, dear! Is it my fault?â
âNo, but what is it, my dear? Do you want me to go and tell him?â said the countess smiling.
âNo, I will do it myself, only tell me what to say. Itâs all very well for you,â said NatĂĄsha, with a responsive smile. âYou should have seen how he said it! I know he did not mean to say it, but it came out accidently.â
âWell, all the same, you must refuse him.â
âNo, I mustnât. I am so sorry for him! Heâs so nice.â
âWell then, accept his offer. Itâs high time for you to be married,â answered the countess sharply and sarcastically.
âNo, Mamma, but Iâm so sorry for him. I donât know how Iâm to say it.â
âAnd thereâs nothing for you to say. I shall speak to him myself,â said the countess, indignant that they should have dared to treat this little NatĂĄsha as grown up.
âNo, not on any account! I will tell him myself, and youâll listen at the door,â and NatĂĄsha ran across the drawing room to the dancing hall, where DenĂsov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord with his face in his hands.
He jumped up at the sound of her light step.
âNataly,â he said, moving with rapid steps toward her, âdecide my fate. It is in your hands.â
âVasĂli DmĂtrich, Iâm so sorry for you!... No, but you are so nice... but it wonât do...not that... but as a friend, I shall always love you.â
DenĂsov bent over her hand and she heard strange sounds she did not understand. She kissed his rough curly black head. At this instant, they heard the quick rustle of the countessâ dress. She came up to them.
âVasĂli DmĂtrich, I thank you for the honor,â she said, with an embarrassed voice, though it sounded severe to DenĂsovââbut my daughter is so young, and I thought that, as my sonâs friend, you would have addressed yourself first to me. In that case you would not have obliged me to give this refusal.â
âCountess...â said DenĂsov, with downcast eyes and a guilty face. He tried to say more, but faltered.
NatĂĄsha could not remain calm, seeing him in such a plight. She began to sob aloud.
âCountess, I have done wâong,â DenĂsov went on in an unsteady voice, âbut believe me, I so adore your daughter and all your family that I would give my life twice over...â He looked at the countess, and seeing her severe face said: âWell, good-by, Countess,â and kissing her hand, he left the room with quick resolute strides, without looking at NatĂĄsha.
Next day RostĂłv saw DenĂsov off. He did not wish to stay another day in Moscow. All DenĂsovâs Moscow friends gave him a farewell entertainment at the gypsiesâ, with the result that he had no recollection of how he was put in the sleigh or of the first three stages of his journey.
After DenĂsovâs departure, RostĂłv spent another fortnight in Moscow, without going out of the house, waiting for the money his father could not at once raise, and he spent most of his time in the girlsâ room.
SĂłnya was more tender and devoted to him than ever. It was as if she wanted to show him that his losses were an achievement that made her love him all the more, but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of her.
He filled the girlsâ albums with verses and music, and having at last sent DĂłlokhov the whole forty-three thousand rubles and received his receipt, he left at the end of November, without taking leave of any of his acquaintances, to overtake his regiment which was already in Poland.
After his interview with his wife Pierre left for Petersburg. At the TorzhĂłk post station, either there were no horses or the postmaster would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect.
âWill you have the portmanteaus brought in? And a bed got ready, and tea?â asked his valet.
Pierre gave no answer, for he neither heard nor saw anything. He had begun to think of the last station and was still pondering on the same questionâone so important that he took no notice of what went on around him. Not only was he indifferent as to whether he got to Petersburg earlier or later, or whether he secured accommodation at this station, but compared to the thoughts that now occupied him it was a matter of indifference whether he remained there for a few hours or for the rest of his life.
The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling TorzhĂłk embroidery came into the room offering their services. Without changing his careless attitude, Pierre looked at them over his spectacles unable to understand what they wanted or how they could go on living without having solved the problems that so absorbed him. He had been engrossed by the same thoughts ever since the day he returned from SokĂłlniki after the duel
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