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Page 701 of 3800

Author: Leo Tolstoy

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"No, on my true word of honor," said Natasha, crossing herself,
"I won't tell anyone!" and she ran off at once to Sonya.
"Nikolenka... wounded... a letter," she announced in gleeful
triumph.
"Nicholas!" was all Sonya said, instantly turning white.
Natasha, seeing the impression the news of her brother's wound
produced on Sonya, felt for the first time the sorrowful side of
the news.
She rushed to Sonya, hugged her, and began to cry.
"A little wound, but he has been made an officer; he is well now,
he wrote himself," said she through her tears.
"There now! It's true that all you women are crybabies," remarked
Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides. "Now I'm
very glad, very glad indeed, that my brother has distinguished
himself so. You are all blubberers and understand nothing."
Natasha smiled through her tears.
"You haven't read the letter?" asked Sonya.
"No, but she said that it was all over and that he's now an
officer."

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