Pagina 187 de 3800

Running into Sonya's room and not finding her there, Natasha ran

to the nursery, but Sonya was not there either. Natasha concluded

that she must be on the chest in the passage. The chest in the

passage was the place of mourning for the younger female

generation in the Rostov household. And there in fact was Sonya

lying face downward on Nurse's dirty feather bed on the top of

the chest, crumpling her gauzy pink dress under her, hiding her

face with her slender fingers, and sobbing so convulsively that

her bare little shoulders shook. Natasha's face, which had been

so radiantly happy all that saint's day, suddenly changed: her

eyes became fixed, and then a shiver passed down her broad neck

and the corners of her mouth drooped.