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Yazar: Leo Tolstoy

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He entered the drawing room with his usual alert step, glancing
rapidly round the company. He noticed the change in the little
princess' dress, Mademoiselle Bourienne's ribbon, Princess Mary's
unbecoming coiffure, Mademoiselle Bourienne's and Anatole's
smiles, and the loneliness of his daughter amid the general
conversation. "Got herself up like a fool!" he thought, looking
irritably at her. "She is shameless, and he ignores her!"
He went straight up to Prince Vasili.
"Well! How d'ye do? How d'ye do? Glad to see you!"
"Friendship laughs at distance," began Prince Vasili in his usual
rapid, self-confident, familiar tone. "Here is my second son;
please love and befriend him."
Prince Bolkonski surveyed Anatole.
"Fine young fellow! Fine young fellow!" he said. "Well, come and
kiss me," and he offered his cheek.
Anatole kissed the old man, and looked at him with curiosity and
perfect composure, waiting for a display of the eccentricities
his father had told him to expect.

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