But what of her?

　　"But what of her?"

　　"She loves you."

　　"Don't talk rubbish..." said Prince Andrew, smiling and looking intoPierre's eyes.

　　"She does, I know," Pierre cried fiercely.

　　"But do listen," returned Prince Andrew, holding him by the arm. "Doyou know the condition I am in? I must talk about it to someone."

　　"Well, go on, go on. I am very glad," said Pierre, and his facereally changed, his brow became smooth, and he listened gladly toPrince Andrew. Prince Andrew seemed, and really was, quite adifferent, quite a new man. Where was his spleen, his contempt forlife, his disillusionment? Pierre was the only person to whom hemade up his mind to speak openly; and to him he told all that was inhis soul. Now he boldly and lightly made plans for an extended future,said he could not sacrifice his own happiness to his father's caprice,and spoke of how he would either make his father consent to thismarriage and love her, or would do without his consent; then hemarveled at the feeling that had mastered him as at something strange,apart from and independent of himself.

　　"I should not have believed anyone who told me that I was capable ofsuch love," said Prince Andrew. "It is not at all the same feelingthat I knew in the past. The whole world is now for me divided intotwo halves: one half is she, and there all is joy, hope, light: theother half is everything where she is not, and there is all gloomand darkness...."

　　"Darkness and gloom," reiterated Pierre: "yes, yes, I understandthat."

　　"I cannot help loving the light, it is not my fault. And I am veryhappy! You understand me? I know you are glad for my sake."

　　"Yes, yes," Pierre assented, looking at his friend with a touchedand sad expression in his eyes. The brighter Prince Andrew's lotappeared to him, the gloomier seemed his own.BK6|CH23