The guests thanked Anna Pavlovna for holding the charmantesoir E and it was over.
French: A fascinating party.
Pierre is all thumbs. He was very fat, taller than the average person, with broad shoulders and thick backs, and his red hands were thick and strong. As you all said, he is not familiar with the rules of entering salon, not to mention getting out of salon, and he is not very expert, that is to say, he will not say two very pleasant words before going out. Besides that, he was also very cocky. He stood up and picked up a triangular hat with a general's feather in his hand instead of his broad-brimmed hat. He held the triangular hat in his hand and kept pulling it until the general got it back. But his kindness, simplicity and humility make up for his carelessness, lack of familiarity with the rules of entering the salon, and lack of ability to speak in the salon. Anna Pavlovna turned to him, with a Christian gentleness, forgiveness for his cruel behavior, nodded to him and said:
"My dear Mr. Pierre, I hope to see you again, but I also hope you can change your opinion." She said.
When she said this to him, he did not reply. He just bowed and smiled at everyone. The smile did not mean anything. It probably only said, "Opinions are opinions, but you know, I am such a good and kind person." All the people accompanied Anna Pavlovna, and they could not help feeling this.
Prince Andrey went to the reception room and raised his shoulders to his cloaked servant. He listened coldly to his wife chatting with the Duke of Ipolite who had also come to the reception room. Ipolitt stood beside the beautiful, pregnant Duchess and stared at her with monocular glasses.
"Come in, Annette, you'll catch a cold," said the little Duchess as she said goodbye to Anna Pavlovna. "C'estarrt1."
She added, lowering her voice.
Anna Pavlovna has talked to Lisa about her intention to match Anatoly and the little duchess's sister-in-law.
"Dear friend, I trust you," Anna Pavlovna said, lowering her voice. "Write her a letter and tell me, commentlepe reenvis Bageralachosen. Aurevoir II." So she left the reception room.
French: That's it.
French: Your father's opinion on this matter. Goodbye.
Duke Ippolite went up to the little duchess, stooped down to her face and said something to her in a soft voice.
Two servants, one of whom was the servant of the duchess, had a shoulder scarf in his hand and the other was his servant. He was standing there with a long dress in his hand, waiting for them to finish speaking. They listened to the French language that they did not understand in their hearts. It looked as if they knew it, but they did not want to show that they understood it. The Duchess, as usual, spoke with a grin and a smile when she listened.
"I am very glad that I did not go to the Minister," said Prince Ippolite. "It's puzzling... The party was wonderful, wasn't it? It was wonderful?'
"Some people say that the ball is fantastic," said the Duchess, pursing her furry little lips. "All the beautiful women in the community are going to show up there."
"Not all women, because you are not present, not all women," said Prince Ippolit, laughing proudly as he grabbed his shoulder scarf from his servant's hand and even pushed it against him and draped it over the Duchess. I don't know whether it's inflexible or deliberate (no one knows what's going on), the shawl is still on her, but he hasn't let go for a long time, as if he were hugging the young woman.
She kept smiling, gracefully avoided him, and turned to look at her husband. Prince Andrey closed his eyes. He seemed very sleepy and drowsy.
"Are you ready?" He asked his wife, but avoided her.
Prince Ippolite hurried into his new heel-long dress and stumbled up the steps to catch up with the Duchess, when the servant helped her into the carriage.
"Princesse, aurevoir," he shouted, his tongue almost speechless as if his legs were caught in a dress.
French: Goodbye, Duchess.
The Duchess lifted up her dress and sat down in the dark carriage. Her husband was tidying up her knife, and Duke Ipolite disturbed everyone on the pretext of service.
"Sir, please step aside." Prince Ippolite hindered Prince Andrey from approaching, and Prince Andrey spoke to him coldly and unhappily in Russian.
"Pierre, I'm waiting for you." Prince Andrey said in the same soft and melodious voice.
The leading horse Royal Hand started the carriage, and the wheels of the carriage rumbled. The Duke of Ippolite, with his intermittent laughter, stood on the porch waiting for the viscount, who had promised to take him home by car.
"Oh, dear, your little Duchess is very lovely. Very cute. It's a French woman." The viscount and Ipolitt sat side by side in the carriage and said. He kissed the tip of his finger.
Ippolite chuckled.
"Do you know how horrible your innocence is?" continued the viscount. "I regret this poor husband, a little officer who is a hereditary lord."
Ippolit chuckled again and said through his laughter:
"But as you said, a Russian lady can't make it to a French lady. Be good at dealing with it."
Pierre arrived first. Like his family, he went into Prince Andrey's study. He was accustomed to lying on the sofa at once and picking up a book from the bookshelf at random (this is Caesar's Seeing and Hearing Record). He propped himself up with his elbow and read it from the middle of the book.
"What do you think of Miss Scheller? She's completely ill now." Prince Andrey said as he rubbed his white hands into his study.
Pierre turned the whole body over. The sofa rattled, and he turned his brilliant face towards Prince Andrey, smiled and waved his hand again.
"No, the priest is very interesting, but he doesn't quite understand the truth... In my opinion, permanent peace is possible, but I will not say it thoroughly... Horizontal is not a means of political balance..."
Obviously, Prince Andrey was not interested in these abstract topics.
"My dear, you can't say what you want to say everywhere. Ah, well, what's your final decision? Are you going to be a guard of the Heavy Cavalry, or a diplomat? Prince Andrey asked after a moment of silence.
"As you can imagine, I don't know yet. I don't like either of them."
"But you know, you have to make up your mind? Your father is expecting it."
Pierre's father, who had been a tutor since he was ten years old, was sent abroad. He lived abroad until he was twenty years old. When he returned to Moscow, his father dismissed the priest and said to the young man, "Now go to Petersburg, go sightseeing and choose a post. I agree with everything. This is a letter to the Duke of Vasili, and this is the money for you. Write to me about all kinds of things, and I'll give you a hand in all respects." Pierre chose his post for three months, but nothing happened. Prince Andrey also talked to him about the choice of office. Pierre wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"He must be a freemason." He said, referring to the priest he had met at a party.
"It's all nonsense," Prince Andrey stopped him and said, "Let's talk about business. Have you ever been to the cavalry guards?..."
"No, I haven't been there, but there's one thing in my mind that I want to talk to you about. The current war is against Napoleon. If this is a war for freedom, I will be clear in my heart. I will be the first to serve in the military. But to help the United States and Austria fight against one of the greatest people in the world... That's very bad."
Prince Andrey shrugged his shoulders at Pierre's childish remarks. He made an unanswerable attitude towards such silly remarks. It was true that it was difficult to give other answers to such childish questions only as Prince Andrey did.
"If everyone fights only by faith, there will be no war." He said.
"It's beautiful beyond words." Pierre said.
Prince Andrey gave a bitter laugh.
"Maybe it's beautiful, but it's never going to happen..."
"Ah, why are you fighting?" Asked Pierre.
"Why? I don't know. It should be done. Apart from that, I'm going to fight..." He paused.'I went to war because the life I lived here was not what I wanted!'
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