Война и мир

Chapter 8

           Whileshesatinthecarriagebesideherfather,pensivelywatchingthelightsofthestreetlampsflickeringonthefrozenwindow,shefeltstillsadderandmoreinlove,andforgotwhereshewasgoingandwithwhom.Havingfallenintothelineofcarriages,theRostóvs’carriagedroveuptothetheater,itswheelssqueakingoverthesnow.NatáshaandSónya,holdinguptheirdresses,jumpedoutquickly.Thecountgotouthelpedbythefootmen,and,passingamongmenandwomenwhowereenteringandtheprogramsellers,theyallthreewentalongthecorridortothefirstrowofboxes.Throughthecloseddoorsthemusicwasalreadyaudible.

           “Natásha,yourhair!...”whisperedSónya.

           Anattendantdeferentiallyandquicklyslippedbeforetheladiesandopenedthedooroftheirbox.Themusicsoundedlouderandthroughthedoorrowsofbrightlylitboxesinwhichladiessatwithbarearmsandshoulders,andnoisystallsbrilliantwithuniforms,glitteredbeforetheireyes.AladyenteringthenextboxshotaglanceoffeminineenvyatNatásha.Thecurtainhadnotyetrisenandtheoverturewasbeingplayed.Natásha,smoothinghergown,wentinwithSónyaandsatdown,scanningthebrillianttiersofboxesopposite.Asensationshehadnotexperiencedforalongtime—thatofhundredsofeyeslookingatherbarearmsandneck—suddenlyaffectedherbothagreeablyanddisagreeablyandcalledupawholecrowdofmemories,desiresandemotionsassociatedwiththatfeeling.

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