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Pierre, carefully stretching his neck so as not to touch the

quilt, followed her suggestion and pressed his lips to the large

boned, fleshy hand. Neither the hand nor a single muscle of the

count's face stirred. Once more Pierre looked questioningly at

Anna Mikhaylovna to see what he was to do next. Anna Mikhaylovna

with her eyes indicated a chair that stood beside the bed. Pierre

obediently sat down, his eyes asking if he were doing right. Anna

Mikhaylovna nodded approvingly. Again Pierre fell into the

naively symmetrical pose of an Egyptian statue, evidently

distressed that his stout and clumsy body took up so much room

and doing his utmost to look as small as possible. He looked at

the count, who still gazed at the spot where Pierre's face had

been before he sat down. Anna Mikhaylovna indicated by her

attitude her consciousness of the pathetic importance of these

last moments of meeting between the father and son. This lasted

about two minutes, which to Pierre seemed an hour.