Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
shes a real angel, allez," Madame
In the arcade they met Varenka herself. She was walking rapidly
towards them carrying an elegant red bag.
"Here is papa come," Kitty said to her.
Varenka made--simply and naturally as she did everything--a
movement between a bow and a curtsey, and immediately began
talking to the prince, without shyness, naturally, as she
talked to everyone.
"Of course I know you; I know you very well," the prince said
to her with a smile, in which Kitty detected with joy that her
father liked her friend. "Where are you off to in such haste?"
"Mamans here," she said, turning to Kitty. "She has not slept
all night, and the doctor advised her to go out. Im taking her
"So thats angel number one?" said the prince when Varenka had
Kitty saw that her father had meant to make fun of Varenka, but
that he could not do it because he liked her.
"Come, so we shall see all your friends," he went on, "even
Madame Stahl, if she deigns to recognize me."
"Why, did you know her, papa?" Kitty asked apprehensively,
catching the gleam of irony that kindled in the princes eyes at
the mention of Madame Stahl.
"I used to know her husband, and her too a little, before shed
joined the Pietists."
"What is a Pietist, papa?" asked Kitty, dismayed to find that
what she prized so highly in Madame Stahl had a name.
"I dont quite know myself. I only know that she thanks God
for everything, for every misfortune, and thanks God too that her
husband died. And thats rather droll, as they didnt get on
"Whos that? What a piteous face!" he asked, noticing a sick man
of medium height sitting on a bench, wearing a brown overcoat and
white trousers that fell in strange folds about his long,
fleshless legs. This man lifted his straw hat, showed his scanty
curly hair and high forehead, painfully reddened by the pressure
of the hat.
"Thats Petrov, an artist," answered Kitty, blushing. "And
thats his wife," she added, indicating Anna Pavlovna, who, as
though on purpose, at the very instant they approached walked
away after a child that had run off along a path.
"Poor fellow! and what a nice face he has!" said the prince.
"Why dont you go up to him? He wanted to speak to you."
"Well, let us go, then," said Kitty, turning round resolutely.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked Petrov.
Petrov got up, leaning on his stick, and looked shyly at the
"This is my daughter," said the prince. "Let me introduce
The painter bowed and smiled, showing his strangely dazzling
"We expected you yesterday, princess," he said to Kitty. He
staggered as he said this, and then repeated the motion, trying
to make it seem as if it had been intentional.
"I meant to come, but Varenka said that Anna Pavlovna sent word
you were not going."
"Not going!" said Petrov, blushing, and immediately beginning to
cough, and his eyes sought his wife. "Anita! Anita!" he said
loudly, and the swollen veins stood out like cords on his thin
Anna Pavlovna came up.
"So you sent word to the princess that we werent going!" he
whispered to her angrily, losing his voice.
"Good morning, princess," said Anna Pavlovna, with an assumed
smile utterly unlike her former manner. "Very glad to make your
acquaintance," she said to the prince. "Youve long been
"What did you send word to the princess that we werent going
for?" the artist whispered hoarsely once more, still more
angrily, obviously exasperated that his voice failed him so that
he could not give his words the expression he would have liked
"Oh, mercy on us! I thought we werent going," his wife answered
"What, when...." He coughed and waved his hand. The prince took
off his hat and moved away with his daughter.
"Ah! ah!" he sighed deeply. "Oh, poor things!"
"Yes, papa," answered Kitty. "And you must know theyve three
children, no servant, and scarcely any means. He gets something
from the Academy," she went on briskly, trying to drown the
distress that the queer change in Anna Pavlovnas manner to her
had aroused in her.
"Oh, heres Madame Stahl," said Kitty, indicating an invalid
carriage, where, propped on pillows, something in gray and blue
was lying under a sunshade. This was Madame Stahl. Behind her
stood the gloomy, healthy-looking German workman who pushed the
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