e living did not and could not understand--and which
wholly occupied his mind.

"There, you see how strangely fate has brought us together," said he,
breaking the silence and pointing to Natasha. "She looks after me all
the time."

Princess Mary heard him and did not understand how he could say such a
thing. He, the sensitive, tender Prince Andrew, how could he say that,
before her whom he loved and who loved him? Had he expected to live he
could not have said those words in that offensively cold tone. If he had
not known that he was dying, how could he have failed to pity her and
how could he speak like that in her presence? The only explanation was
that he was indifferent, because something else, much more important,
had been revealed to him.

The conversation was cold and disconnected and continually broke off.

"Mary came by way of Ryazan," said Natasha.

Prince Andrew did not notice that she called his sister Mary, and only
after calling her so in his presence did Natasha notice it herself.

"Really?" he asked.

"They told her that all Moscow has been burned down, and that..."

Natasha stopped. It was impossible to talk. It was plain that he was
making an effort to listen, but could not do so.

"Yes, they say it's burned," he said. "It's a great pity," and he gazed
straight before him, absently stroking his mustache with his fingers.

"And so you have met Count Nicholas, Mary?" Prince Andrew suddenly said,
evidently wishing to speak pleasantly to them. "He wrote here that he
took a great liking to you," he went on simply and calmly, evidently
unable to understand all the complex significance his words had for
living people. "If you liked him too, it would be a good thing for you
to get married," he added rather more quickly, as if pleased at having
found words he had long been seeking.

Princess Mary heard his words but they had no meaning for her, except as
a proof of how far away he now was from everything living.

"Why talk of me?" she said quietly and glanced at Natasha.

Natasha, who felt her glance, did not look at her. All three were again
silent.

"Andrew, would you like..." Princess Mary suddenly said in a trembling
voice, "would you like to see little Nicholas? He is always talking
about you!"

Prince Andrew smiled just perceptibly and for the first time, but
Princess Mary, who knew his face so well, saw with horror that he did
not smile with pleasure or affection for his son, but with q