Emma Watson Pussy
Books:
Anna Karenina
War And Peace
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ought not to refuse a suppliant, and
ought to reach a helping hand to everyone--especially to one so
closely bound to me--and that I must bear my cross. But if I forgive
her for the sake of doing right, then let union with her have only a
spiritual aim. That is what I decided, and what I wrote to Joseph
Alexeevich. I told my wife that I begged her to forget the past, to
forgive me whatever wrong I may have done her, and that I had
nothing to forgive. It gave me joy to tell her this. She need not know
how hard it was for me to see her again. I have settled on the upper
floor of this big house and am experiencing a happy feeling of
regeneration.
CHAPTER IX
At that time, as always happens, the highest society that met at
court and at the grand balls was divided into several circles, each
with its own particular tone. The largest of these was the French
circle of the Napoleonic alliance, the circle of Count Rumyantsev
and Caulaincourt. In this group Helene, as soon as she had settled
in Petersburg with her husband, took a very prominent place. She was
visited by the members of the French embassy and by many belonging
to that circle and noted for their intellect and polished manners.
Helene had been at Erfurt during the famous meeting of the
Emperors and had brought from there these connections with the
Napoleonic notabilities. At Erfurt her success had been brilliant.
Napoleon himself had noticed her in the theater and said of her:
"Cest un superbe animal."* Her success as a beautiful and elegant
woman did not surprise Pierre, for she had become even handsomer
than before. What did surprise him was that during these last two
years his wife had succeeded in gaining the reputation "d une femme
charmante, aussi spirituelle que belle."*[2] The distinguished
Prince de Ligne wrote her eight-page letters. Bilibin saved up his
epigrams to produce them in Countess Bezukhovas presence. To be
received in the Countess Bezukhovas salon was regarded as a diploma
of intellect. Young men read books before attending Helenes evenings,
to have something to say in her salon, and secretaries of the embassy,
and even ambassadors, confided diplomatic secrets to her, so that in a
way Helene was a power. Pierre, who knew she was very stupid,
sometimes attended, with a strange feeling of perplexity and fear, her
evenings and dinner parties, where politics, poetry, and philosophy
were discussed. At these parties his feelings were like those of a
conjuror who always expects his trick to be found out at any moment.
But whether because stupidity was just what was needed to run such a
salon, or because those who were deceived found pleasure in the
deception, at any rate it remained unexposed and Helene Bezukhovas
reputation as a lovely and clever woman became so firmly established
that she could say the emptiest and stupidest things and everybody
would go into raptures over every word of hers and look for a profound
meaning in it of which she herself had no conception.
*"Thats a superb animal."
*[2] "Of a charming woman, as witty as she is lovely."
Pierre was just the husband needed for a brilliant society woman. He
was that absent-minded crank, a grand seigneur husband who was in no
ones way, and far from spoiling the high tone and general
impression of the drawing room, he served, by the contrast he
presented to her, as an advantageous background to his elegant and
tactful wife. Pierre during the last two years, as a result of his
continual absorption in abstract interests and his sincere contempt
for all else, had acquired in his wifes circle, which did not
interest him, that air of unconcern, indifference, and benevolence
toward all, which cannot be acquired artificially and therefore
inspires involuntary respect. He entered his wifes drawing room as
one enters a theater, was acquainted with everybody, equally pleased
to see everyone, and equally indifferent to them all. Sometimes he
joined in a conversation which interested him and, regardless of
whether any "gentlemen of the embassy" were present or not,
lispingly expressed his views, which were sometimes not at all in
accord with the accepted tone of the moment. But the general opinion
concerning the queer husband of "the most distinguished woman in
Petersburg" was so well established that no one took his freaks
seriously.
Among the many young men who frequented her house every day, Boris
Drubetskoy, who had already achieved great success in the service, was
the most intimate
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