ShewasnursingherboywhenthesoundofPierre'ssleighwasheardatthefrontdoor, andtheoldnurse—knowinghowtopleasehermistress—enteredtheroominaudiblybuthurriedlyandwithabeamingface.
"Hashecome?" Natashaaskedquicklyinawhisper, afraidtomovelestsheshouldrousethedozingbaby.
"He'scome, ma'am," whisperedthenurse.
ThebloodrushedtoNatasha'sfaceandherfeetinvoluntarilymoved, ."You'rehere?" heseemedtobesaying, andagainlazilysmackedhislips.
Cautiouslywithdrawingherbreast, Natasharockedhimalittle, handedhimtothenurse, , .
"Go, ma'am! Don'tworry, go!" shewhispered, smiling, withthekindoffamiliaritythatgrowsupbetweenanurseandhermistress.
Natasharanwithlightfootstepstotheanteroom.
Denisov, whohadcomeoutofthestudyintothedancingroomwithhispipe, , joyfullightpouredfromhertransfiguredface.
"He'scome!" sheexclaimedassheranpast, andDenisovfeltthathetoowasdelightedthatPierre, whomhedidnotmuchcarefor, hadreturned.
OnreachingthevestibuleNatashasawatallfigureinafurcoatunwindinghisscarf."It'she! It'sreallyhe! Hehascome!" shesaidtoherself, andrushingathimembracedhim, pressedhisheadtoherbreast, andthenpushedhimbackandgazedathisruddy, happyface, coveredwithhoarfrost."Yes, itishe, happyandcontented..."
Thenallatoncesherememberedthetorturesofsuspenseshehadexperiencedforthelastfortnight, andthejoythathadlitupherfacevanished; shefrownedandoverwhelmedPierrewithatorrentofreproachesandangrywords.
"Yes, it', you'vehadagoodtime....Butwhataboutme? ....Petyawasatdeath', enjoying..."
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