Oh, Natasha!

　　"What! You don't remember Boris?" asked Sonya in surprise.

　　"It's not that I don't remember- I know what he is like, but notas I remember Nikolenka. Him- I just shut my eyes and remember, butBoris... No!" (She shut her eyes.)"No! there's nothing at all."

　　"Oh, Natasha!" said Sonya, looking ecstatically and earnestly at herfriend as if she did not consider her worthy to hear what she meant tosay and as if she were saying it to someone else, with whom joking wasout of the question, "I am in love with your brother once for all and,whatever may happen to him or to me, shall never cease to love himas long as I live."

　　Natasha looked at Sonya with wondering and inquisitive eyes, andsaid nothing. She felt that Sonya was speaking the truth, that therewas such love as Sonya was speaking of. But Natasha had not yet feltanything like it. She believed it could be, but did not understand it.

　　"Shall you write to him?" she asked.

　　Sonya became thoughtful. The question of how to write to Nicholas,and whether she ought to write, tormented her. Now that he was alreadyan officer and a wounded hero, would it be right to remind him ofherself and, as it might seem, of the obligations to her he hadtaken on himself?

　　"I don't know. I think if he writes, I will write too," she said,blushing.

　　"And you won't feel ashamed to write to him?"

　　Sonya smiled.

　　"No."

　　"And I should be ashamed to write to Boris. I'm not going to."

　　"Why should you be ashamed?"

　　"Well, I don't know. It's awkward and would make me ashamed."

　　"And I know why she'd be ashamed," said Petya, offended by Natasha'sprevious remark. "It's because she was in love with that fat one inspectacles" (that was how Petya described his namesake, the newCount Bezukhov) "and now she's in love with that singer" (he meantNatasha's Italian singing master), "that's why she's ashamed!"