Count Arakcheev's waiting room.

During his service, chiefly as an adjutant, Prince Andrew had seen the
anterooms of many important men, and the different types of such rooms
were well known to him. Count Arakcheev's anteroom had quite a special
character. The faces of the unimportant people awaiting their turn for
an audience showed embarrassment and servility; the faces of those of
higher rank expressed a common feeling of awkwardness, covered by a mask
of unconcern and ridicule of themselves, their situation, and the person
for whom they were waiting. Some walked thoughtfully up and down,
others whispered and laughed. Prince Andrew heard the nickname "Sila
Andreevich" and the words, "Uncle will give it to us hot," in reference
to Count Arakcheev. One general (an important personage), evidently
feeling offended at having to wait so long, sat crossing and uncrossing
his legs and smiling contemptuously to himself.

But the moment the door opened one feeling alone appeared on all
faces--that of fear. Prince Andrew for the second time asked the
adjutant on duty to take in his name, but received an ironical look and
was told that his turn would come in due course. After some others had
been shown in and out of the minister's room by the adjutant on duty,
an officer who struck Prince Andrew by his humiliated and frightened
air was admitted at that terrible door. This officer's audience lasted
a long time. Then suddenly the grating sound of a harsh voice was heard
from the other side of the door, and the officer--with pale face and
trembling lips--came out and passed through the waiting room, clutching
his head.

After this Prince Andrew was conducted to the door and the officer on
duty said in a whisper, "To the right, at the window."

Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man of
forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep wrinkles,
scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an overhanging red
nose. Arakcheev turned his head toward him without looking at him.

"What is your petition?" asked Arakcheev.

"I am not petitioning, your excellency," returned Prince Andrew quietly.

Arakcheev's eyes turned toward him.

"Sit down," said he. "Prince Bolkonski?"

"I am not petitioning about anything. His Majesty the Emperor has
deigned to send your excellency a project submitted by me..."

"You see, my dear sir, I have read your project," interrupted Arakcheev,
uttering only t