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him。”
After learning from Pierre the details of Anatole’s marriage； and pouring out her wrath against him in abusive epithets； Marya Dmitryevna informed Pierre of her object in sending for him。 Marya Dmitryevna was afraid that the count or Bolkonsky； who might arrive any moment； might hear of the affair； though she intended to conceal it from them； and might challenge Kuragin； and she therefore begged Pierre to bid his brother…in…law from her to leave Moscow and not to dare to show himself in her presence。 Pierre promised to do as she desired him； only then grasping the danger menacing the old count； and Nikolay； and Prince Andrey。 After briefly and precisely explaining to him her wishes； she let him go to the drawing…room。
“Mind； the count knows nothing of it。 You behave as though you know nothing；” she said to him。 “And I’ll go and tell her it’s no use for her to expect him！ And stay to dinner； if you care to；” Marya Dmitryevna called after Pierre。
Pierre met the old count。 He seemed upset and anxious。 That morning Natasha had told him that she had broken off her engagement to Bolkonsky。
“I’m in trouble； in trouble； my dear fellow；” he said to Pierre； “with those girls without the mother。 I do regret now that I came。 I will be open with you。 Have you heard she has broken off her engagement without a word to any one？ I never did； I’ll admit； feel very much pleased at the marriage。 He’s an excellent man； of course； but still there could be no happiness against a father’s will； and Natasha will never want for suitors。 Still it had been going on so long； and then such a step； without her father’s or her mother’s knowledge！ And now she’s ill； and God knows what it is。 It’s a bad thing； count； a bad thing to have a daughter away from her mother。…” Pierre saw the count was greatly troubled； and tried to change the conversation to some other subject； but the count went back again to his troubles。
Sonya came into the drawing…room with an agitated face。
“Natasha is not very well； she is in her room and would like to see you。 Marya Dmitryevna is with her and she asks you to come too。”
“Why； yes； you’re such a great friend of Bolkonsky’s； no doubt she wants to send him some message；” said the count。 “Ah； my God； my God！ How happy it all was！” And clutching at his sparse locks； the count went out of the room。
Marya Dmitryevna had told Natasha that Anatole was married。 Natasha would not believe her； and insisted on the statement being confirmed by Pierre himself。 Sonya told Pierre this as she led him across the corridor to Natasha’s room。
Natasha； pale and stern； was sitting beside Marya Dmitryevna； and she met Pierre at the door with eyes of feverish brilliance and inquiry。 She did not smile nor nod to him。 She simply looked hard at him； and that look asked him simply： was he a friend or an enemy like the rest； as regards Anatole？ Pierre in himself had evidently no existence for her。
“He knows everything；” said Marya Dmitryevna； addressing Natasha。 “Let him tell you whether I have spoken the truth。”
As a hunted； wounded beast looks at the approaching dogs and hunters； Natasha looked from one to the other。
“Natalya Ilyinitchna；” Pierre began； dropping his eyes and conscious of a feeling of pity for her and loathing for the operation he had to perform； “whether it is true or not cannot affect you since …”
“Then it is not true that he is married？”
“No； it is true。”
“Has he been married long？” she asked。 “On your word of honour？”
Pierre told her so on his word of honour。
“Is he still here？” she asked rapidly。
“Yes； I have just seen him。”
She was obviously incapable of speaking； she made a sign with her hands for them to leave her alone。
Chapter 20
PIERRE did not stay to dinner but went away at once on leaving Natasha’s room。 He drove about the town looking for Anatole Kuragin； at the very thought of whom the blood rushed to his heart； and he felt a difficulty in breathing。 On the ice…hills； at the gypsies’； at Somoneno he was not to be found。 Pierre drove to the club。 In the club everything was going on just as usual： the members who had come in to dinner were sitting in groups； they greeted Pierre； and talked of the news of the town。 The footman； after greeting him； told him； as he knew his friends and his habits； that there was a place left for him in the little dining…room； that Prince Mihail Zaharitch was in the library； and that Pavel Timofeitch had not come in yet。 One of Pierre’s acquaintances asked him in the middle of a conversation about the weather； whether he had heard of Kuragin’s elopement with Natalie Rostov； of which every one was talking in the town； was it true？ Pierre said； laughing； that it was all nonsense； for he had just come from the Rostovs’。 He asked every one about Anatole； one man told him he had not come in yet； another said he was to dine there that day。 It was strange to Pierre to look at that calm； indifferent crowd of people； who knew nothing of what was passing in his soul。 He walked about the hall； waited till every one had come in； and still seeing nothing of Anatole； he did not dine； but drove home。
Anatole was dining that day with Dolohov； and consulting with him how to achieve the exploit that had miscarried。 It seemed to him essential to see Natasha。 In the evening he went to his sister’s； to discuss with her means for arranging their meeting。 When Pierre； after vainly driving about all Moscow； returned home； his valet told him that Prince Anatole Vassilyevitch was with the countess。 The drawing…room of the countess was full of guests。
Pierre did not bestow a greeting on his wife； whom he had not seen since his return （she was more hateful to him than ever at that moment）； he walked into the drawing…room； and seeing Anatole； went straight up to him。
“Ah； Pierre；” said the countess； going up to her husband； “you don’t know what a plight our poor Anatole is in …” She stopped short； seeing in her husband’s bowed head； in his glittering eyes； in his resolute tread； that terrible look of rage and power； which she knew and had experienced in her own case after the duel with Dolohov。
“Wherever you are； there is vice and wickedness；” said Pierre to his wife。 “Anatole； come along； I want a word with you；” he said in French。 Anatole looked round at his sister； and got up obediently； prepared to follow Pierre。
Pierre took him by the arm； drew him to him； and walked out of the room。
“If you allow yourself in my drawing…room…” Ellen whispered； but Pierre walked out of the room； without answering her。
Anatole followed him； with his usual jaunty swagger。 But his face betrayed uneasiness。 Going into his own room； Pierre shut the door； and addressed Anatole without looking at him。 “Did you promise Countess Rostov to marry her？ Did you try to elope with her？”
“My dear fellow；” answered Anatole； in French （as was the whole conversation）； “I don’t consider myself bound to answer questions put to me in that tone。”
Pierre’s face； which had been pale before； was distorted by fury。 With his big hand he clutched Anatole by the collar of his uniform； and proceeded to shake him from side to side； till Anatole’s face show