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Yazar: Leo Tolstoy

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Princess Mary was left alone. She did not comply with Lise's
request, she not only left her hair as it was, but did not even
look in her glass. Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat with
downcast eyes and pondered. A husband, a man, a strong dominant
and strangely attractive being rose in her imagination, and
carried her into a totally different happy world of his own. She
fancied a child, her own-such as she had seen the day before in
the arms of her nurse's daughter-at her own breast, the husband
standing by and gazing tenderly at her and the child. "But no, it
is impossible, I am too ugly," she thought.
"Please come to tea. The prince will be out in a moment," came
the maid's voice at the door.

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