Sometimes he even did it when there was a room full of people between them.
In the waiting room were tradesmen, women, and officials, looking silently at one another.
You have much room for this new baby?
You are the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.
At that moment Count Rostopchin with his protruding chin and alert eyes, wearing the uniform of a general with sash over his shoulder, entered the room, stepping briskly to the front of the crowd of gentry.
It was unsatisfactory everywhere, but the corner behind the piano in the sitting room was better than other places: he had never slept there yet.
The door of the Governor's room opened and they all rose and moved forward.
"Under the bed in your own room," was the reply.
She scanned the room, but didn't spot him.
As he started toward the doorway to their room, she called after him.
Alex walked into the room, smiling when he saw what she had done.
She had to move a few things to make room, but that wasn't too hard.
As she rounded the curve in the staircase, the room became silent.
She nodded, searching the room again for Alex.
When the kids were settled in their room, she turned on Alex.
Princess Mary noticed to her surprise that during this illness the old prince not only excluded her from his room, but did not admit Mademoiselle Bourienne either.
Princess Mary saw Dessalles' embarrassed and astonished look fixed on her father, noticed his silence, and was struck by the fact that her father had forgotten his son's letter on the drawing-room table; but she was not only afraid to speak of it and ask Dessalles the reason of his confusion and silence, but was afraid even to think about it.
But the Governor did not finish: a dusty perspiring officer ran into the room and began to say something in French.
From the foyer, they entered a huge room with a wide staircase that curved gracefully from the balcony on the second floor.
Later, as they walked back to their room, Jonathan looked up at Carmen.
And he's going to take you to his room after the dance.
Carmen rubbed her sore neck and searched the room for Alex again, but didn't find him.
For a moment she watched them gracefully move across the room - totally in sync.
"You speak to each other across the room with your eyes," she said as if it were some incredible feat.
"I'll take her in the other room," she said, shaking her head when Alex started to assist her.
One day he would order his camp bed to be set up in the glass gallery, another day he remained on the couch or on the lounge chair in the drawing room and dozed there without undressing, while--instead of Mademoiselle Bourienne--a serf boy read to him.
But as soon as he had left the room the old prince, looking uneasily round, threw down his napkin and went himself.
On moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess Mary and, spreading out before him the plan of the new building and fixing his eyes upon it, told her to read the letter aloud.
The prince had a list of things to be bought in Smolensk and, walking up and down the room past Alpatych who stood by the door, he gave his instructions.
I don't want her to wake up in a strange room and not be able to find us.
The fact is that I left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must have stolen in without my knowing it.
"In a room of the palace," he answered.
Then, one morning, Alfred went into his mother's room with a smiling, joyous face.
It means we have plenty of room for improvement.
The trees have ample room to expand on the water side, and each sends forth its most vigorous branch in that direction.
He walked out of the room chuckling.
He paced back and forth across the room, deep in thought.
In a quiet room with no one looking on, she managed to get her emotions under control by focusing on Destiny.
Alondra walked into the room with some tissues and a damp rag.
Later that evening in their room Carmen asked him about the exchange.
After breakfast, they all retired to the entry room and gathered around the tree to open presents.
When she got to the room, Alex was sitting on the love seat reading a newspaper.
On one side of the living room a door opened into a large dining area.
The dining room was directly off the kitchen, which was also lavish.
She wasn't looking forward to being in the room with Alex right now - especially so with the children there to listen.
Alex was pacing the room when she returned.
The door to Destiny & Jonathan's room was closed.
When she woke again, the room was dark.
Felipa left the room five minutes before Tessa left.
Was there room for two car seats and a bumper seat in the back seat of her car?
The little man, having had a good sleep, felt rested and refreshed, and looking through the glass partition of the room he saw Zeb sitting up on his bench and yawning.
Suddenly they looked up to find the room filled with the silent, solemn-eyed Mangaboos.
So Dorothy ran to her room and found the kitten under the bed.
The piglet is gone, and you ran out of the room when Jellia opened the door.
The Wizard, when he returned to his own room, was exceedingly thoughtful.
At this everyone in the Throne Room suddenly became quiet, and the kitten continued, in a calm, mocking tone of voice:
A farmer is as good as any other man; and where there's no room for a farmer, there can be no room for me.
At one end of the room there was a big fireplace, where the mother did the cooking.
They did so, and as the flames lighted up the room, they saw their father enter with a child in his arms.
In a few minutes the room was filled with gentlemen.
After all, we live in a universe that looks like it has plenty of room for us to expand into.
I lived, up to the time of the illness that deprived me of my sight and hearing, in a tiny house consisting of a large square room and a small one, in which the servant slept.
One day I happened to spill water on my apron, and I spread it out to dry before the fire which was flickering on the sitting-room hearth.
The morning after my teacher came she led me into her room and gave me a doll.
It was thought advisable for me to have my examinations in a room by myself, because the noise of the typewriter might disturb the other girls.
The reception-room where we sat served for a stage.
There was an odour of print and leather in the room which told me that it was full of books, and I stretched out my hand instinctively to find them.
The tongue is so serviceable a member (taking all sorts of shapes, just as is wanted),--the teeth, the lips, the roof of the mouth, all ready to help, and so heap up the sound of the voice into the solid bits which we call consonants, and make room for the curiously shaped breathings which we call vowels!
Our room is pleasant and comfortable.
But in the meantime the club has rented a little room in a central part of the town, and the books which we already have are free to all. 3.
We could hear the yells of the boys and the cheers of the lookers-on as plainly in our room as if we had been on the field.
In college she, or possibly in some subjects some one else, would of necessity be with me in the lecture-room and at recitations.
She ran downstairs with it and could not be induced to return to my room all day.
I locked the dining-room door, and proceeded to eat my breakfast, though the food almost choked me.
Then I let her out into the warm sunshine and went up to my room and threw myself on the bed exhausted.
Helen didn't come up to my room after supper, and I didn't see her again until breakfast-time.
When she left the dining-room, she took my hand and patted it.
I went back to the dining-room and got a napkin.
After supper we go to my room and do all sorts of things until eight, when I undress the little woman and put her to bed.
Later Helen came to my room, looking very sad, and wanted to kiss me.
She was delighted with the orchestra at the hotel, and whenever the music began she danced round the room, hugging and kissing every one she happened to touch.
In one room some little tots were standing before the blackboard, painfully constructing "simple sentences."
When we entered the room, the children's attention was riveted on Helen.
I was very fond of bananas, and one night I dreamed that I found a long string of them in the dining-room, near the cupboard, all peeled and deliciously ripe, and all I had to do was to stand under the string and eat as long as I could eat.
The low shrub oak plateau to which the opposite shore arose stretched away toward the prairies of the West and the steppes of Tartary, affording ample room for all the roving families of men.
A young forest growing up under your meadows, and wild sumachs and blackberry vines breaking through into your cellar; sturdy pitch pines rubbing and creaking against the shingles for want of room, their roots reaching quite under the house.
When visitors came in larger and unexpected numbers there was but the third chair for them all, but they generally economized the room by standing up.
You want room for your thoughts to get into sailing trim and run a course or two before they make their port.
Also, our sentences wanted room to unfold and form their columns in the interval.
As the conversation began to assume a loftier and grander tone, we gradually shoved our chairs farther apart till they touched the wall in opposite corners, and then commonly there was not room enough.
My "best" room, however, my withdrawing room, always ready for company, on whose carpet the sun rarely fell, was the pine wood behind my house.
The village appeared to me a great news room; and on one side, to support it, as once at Redding & Company's on State Street, they kept nuts and raisins, or salt and meal and other groceries.
I observed that the vitals of the village were the grocery, the bar-room, the post-office, and the bank; and, as a necessary part of the machinery, they kept a bell, a big gun, and a fire-engine, at convenient places; and the houses were so arranged as to make the most of mankind, in lanes and fronting one another, so that every traveller had to run the gauntlet, and every man, woman, and child might get a lick at him.
It was very pleasant, when I stayed late in town, to launch myself into the night, especially if it was dark and tempestuous, and set sail from some bright village parlor or lecture room, with a bag of rye or Indian meal upon my shoulder, for my snug harbor in the woods, having made all tight without and withdrawn under hatches with a merry crew of thoughts, leaving only my outer man at the helm, or even tying up the helm when it was plain sailing.
The chickens, which had also taken shelter here from the rain, stalked about the room like members of the family, too humanized, methought, to roast well.
It could readily ascend the sides of the room by short impulses, like a squirrel, which it resembled in its motions.
All the attractions of a house were concentrated in one room; it was kitchen, chamber, parlor, and keeping-room; and whatever satisfaction parent or child, master or servant, derive from living in a house, I enjoyed it all.
The stove not only took up room and scented the house, but it concealed the fire, and I felt as if I had lost a companion.
Anna Pavlovna's drawing room was gradually filling.
She rose with the same unchanging smile with which she had first entered the room--the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman.
Just then another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess' husband.
It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look at or listen to them.
Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm.
Stout, about the average height, broad, with huge red hands; he did not know, as the saying is, how to enter a drawing room and still less how to leave one; that is, how to say something particularly agreeable before going away.
All his absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and converse in it was, however, redeemed by his kindly, simple, and modest expression.
Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in which were the remains of supper.
From the third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, the growling of a bear, and general commotion.
The lad jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs.
The man who had wished to stop the affair ran to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to the wall.
And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.
The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one another in relays.
A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling.
Boris quietly left the room and went in search of Natasha.
The only young people remaining in the drawing room, not counting the young lady visitor and the countess' eldest daughter (who was four years older than her sister and behaved already like a grown-up person), were Nicholas and Sonya, the niece.
He waited for the first pause in the conversation, and then with a distressed face left the room to find Sonya.
When Natasha ran out of the drawing room she only went as far as the conservatory.
There she paused and stood listening to the conversation in the drawing room, waiting for Boris to come out.
Boris paused in the middle of the room, looked round, brushed a little dust from the sleeve of his uniform, and going up to a mirror examined his handsome face.
Sonya, muttering to herself, kept looking round toward the drawing-room door.
But as she passed the sitting room she noticed two couples sitting, one pair at each window.
"You have a room of your own," and she took the inkstand from Nicholas.
You came rushing into the drawing room so that everyone felt ashamed of you.
She lingered in the room with the inkstand in her hand.
In the drawing room the conversation was still going on.
Entering the drawing room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery frames while a third read aloud.
And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing laughter of the sister with the mole.
After he had gone Pierre continued pacing up and down the room for a long time, no longer piercing an imaginary foe with his imaginary sword, but smiling at the remembrance of that pleasant, intelligent, and resolute young man.
Pierre had come just at dinnertime and was sitting awkwardly in the middle of the drawing room on the first chair he had come across, blocking the way for everyone.
Again the footmen rushed about, chairs scraped, and in the same order in which they had entered but with redder faces, the guests returned to the drawing room and to the count's study.
The card tables were drawn out, sets made up for boston, and the count's visitors settled themselves, some in the two drawing rooms, some in the sitting room, some in the library.
She looked round and seeing that her friend was not in the room ran to look for her.
Do you remember how we and Nicholas, all three of us, talked in the sitting room after supper?
"Look at Papa!" shouted Natasha to the whole company, and quite forgetting that she was dancing with a grown-up partner she bent her curly head to her knees and made the whole room ring with her laughter.
The magnificent reception room was crowded.
In this room it was almost dark; only two tiny lamps were burning before the icons and there was a pleasant scent of flowers and burnt pastilles.
The room was crowded with small pieces of furniture, whatnots, cupboards, and little tables.
From the passage they went into a large, dimly lit room adjoining the count's reception room.
They went into the reception room familiar to Pierre, with two Italian windows opening into the conservatory, with its large bust and full length portrait of Catherine the Great.
With the air of a practical Petersburg lady she now, keeping Pierre close beside her, entered the room even more boldly than that afternoon.
As soon as Anna Mikhaylovna had disappeared he noticed that the eyes of all in the room turned to him with something more than curiosity and sympathy.
Pierre well knew this large room divided by columns and an arch, its walls hung round with Persian carpets.
The part of the room behind the columns, with a high silk-curtained mahogany bedstead on one side and on the other an immense case containing icons, was brightly illuminated with red light like a Russian church during evening service.
There was now no one in the reception room except Prince Vasili and the eldest princess, who were sitting under the portrait of Catherine the Great and talking eagerly.
"Catiche has had tea served in the small drawing room," said Prince Vasili to Anna Mikhaylovna.
Pierre well remembered this small circular drawing room with its mirrors and little tables.
Now this same room was dimly lighted by two candles.
He looked inquiringly at his monitress and saw that she was again going on tiptoe to the reception room where they had left Prince Vasili and the eldest princess.
"Why don't you speak, cousin?" suddenly shrieked the princess so loud that those in the drawing room heard her and were startled.
She led him into the dark drawing room and Pierre was glad no one could see his face.
Princess Mary went back to her room with the sad, scared expression that rarely left her and which made her plain, sickly face yet plainer.
The princess glanced at her watch and, seeing that she was five minutes late in starting her practice on the clavichord, went into the sitting room with a look of alarm.
Let us go across to Mary's room, he said.
Before they reached the room from which the sounds of the clavichord came, the pretty, fair haired Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Bourienne, rushed out apparently beside herself with delight.
They went up to the door of the sitting room from which came the sound of the oft-repeated passage of the sonata.
Take her to your room and I'll go to Father.
The old prince always dressed in old-fashioned style, wearing an antique coat and powdered hair; and when Prince Andrew entered his father's dressing room (not with the contemptuous look and manner he wore in drawing rooms, but with the animated face with which he talked to Pierre), the old man was sitting on a large leather-covered chair, wrapped in a powdering mantle, entrusting his head to Tikhon.
What about Austria? said he, rising from his chair and pacing up and down the room followed by Tikhon, who ran after him, handing him different articles of clothing.
At the appointed hour the prince, powdered and shaven, entered the dining room.
In the dining room, which like all the rooms in the house was exceedingly lofty, the members of the household and the footmen--one behind each chair--stood waiting for the prince to enter.
Only those things he always kept with him remained in his room; a small box, a large canteen fitted with silver plate, two Turkish pistols and a saber--a present from his father who had brought it from the siege of Ochakov.
With his hands behind him he paced briskly from corner to corner of the room, looking straight before him and thoughtfully shaking his head.
On the way to his sister's room, in the passage which connected one wing with the other, Prince Andrew met Mademoiselle Bourienne smiling sweetly.
I thought you were in your room, she said, for some reason blushing and dropping her eyes.
When he reached his sister's room his wife was already awake and her merry voice, hurrying one word after another, came through the open door.
He entered the room softly.
"Adieu, Mary," said he gently to his sister, taking her by the hand and kissing her, and then he left the room with rapid steps.
On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into his private room and, calling his adjutant, asked for some papers relating to the condition of the troops on their arrival, and the letters that had come from the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in command of the advanced army.
Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the room with the required papers.
Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book.
He took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the window, and threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the room as if asking, "Why do they look at me?"
The door of the private room opened and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway.
Then wrinkles ran over his face like a wave and his forehead became smooth again, he bowed his head respectfully, closed his eyes, silently let Mack enter his room before him, and closed the door himself behind him.
Excited and irritated by these thoughts Prince Andrew went toward his room to write to his father, to whom he wrote every day.
On seeing Rostov, Denisov screwed up his face and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to the room where Telyanin was sitting, he frowned and gave a shudder of disgust.
There was no one else in the room except myself.
In the second room of the inn the lieutenant was sitting over a dish of sausages and a bottle of wine.
Rostov took the money, avoiding Telyanin's eyes, and went out of the room without a word.
These sayings were prepared in the inner laboratory of his mind in a portable form as if intentionally, so that insignificant society people might carry them from drawing room to drawing room.
When Prince Andrew reached the room prepared for him and lay down in a clean shirt on the feather bed with its warmed and fragrant pillows, he felt that the battle of which he had brought tidings was far, far away from him.
The staff officer joined in the colonel's appeals, but Bagration did not reply; he only gave an order to cease firing and re-form, so as to give room for the two approaching battalions.
The angry eldest princess, with the long waist and hair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room after the funeral.
Anna Pavlovna arranged the different groups in her drawing room with her habitual skill.
Helene stooped forward to make room, and looked round with a smile.
While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for a long time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they were sitting.
When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, his wife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre.
When the little princess had grown accustomed to life at Bald Hills, she took a special fancy to Mademoiselle Bourienne, spent whole days with her, asked her to sleep in her room, and often talked with her about the old prince and criticized him.
He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stood with bowed head.
He shaved and scented himself with the care and elegance which had become habitual to him and, his handsome head held high, entered his father's room with the good-humored and victorious air natural to him.
Princess Mary was sitting alone in her room, vainly trying to master her agitation.
They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawing room and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourself up at all!
When Princess Mary came down, Prince Vasili and his son were already in the drawing room, talking to the little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne.
He entered the drawing room with his usual alert step, glancing rapidly round the company.
After tea, the company went into the sitting room and Princess Mary was asked to play on the clavichord.
When Princess Mary went to her father's room at the usual hour, Mademoiselle Bourienne and Anatole met in the conservatory.
Go to your room, think it over, and come back in an hour and tell me in his presence: yes or no.
When Tikhon came to her Princess Mary was sitting on the sofa in her room, holding the weeping Mademoiselle Bourienne in her arms and gently stroking her hair.
Anna Mikhaylovna, who always knew everything that passed in the house, on hearing of the arrival of the letter went softly into the room and found the count with it in his hand, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
It's true that all you women are crybabies, remarked Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides.
Petya paced the room in silence for a time.
On retiring to her own room, she sat in an armchair, her eyes fixed on a miniature portrait of her son on the lid of a snuffbox, while the tears kept coming into her eyes.
Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and Petya now entered the room, and the reading of the letter began.
The one who was writing and whom Boris addressed turned round crossly and told him Bolkonski was on duty and that he should go through the door on the left into the reception room if he wished to see him.
Boris thanked him and went to the reception room, where he found some ten officers and generals.
In the large drawing room which had become the commander in chief's office were gathered Kutuzov himself, Weyrother, and the members of the council of war.
My treasure! and Prokofy, trembling with excitement, rushed toward the drawing-room door, probably in order to announce him, but, changing his mind, came back and stooped to kiss the young man's shoulder.
Sonya, Natasha, Petya, Anna Mikhaylovna, Vera, and the old count were all hugging him, and the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing.
Denisov, who had come into the room unnoticed by anyone, stood there and wiped his eyes at the sight.
Denisov was shown to the room prepared for him, and the Rostovs all gathered round Nicholas in the sitting room.
In the room next their bedroom there was a confusion of sabers, satchels, sabretaches, open portmanteaus, and dirty boots.
Sonya ran away, but Natasha, taking her brother's arm, led him into the sitting room, where they began talking.
And Natasha rose and went out of the room on tiptoe, like a ballet dancer, but smiling as only happy girls of fifteen can smile.
When Rostov met Sonya in the drawing room, he reddened.
But after a while, just as a jury comes out of its room, the bigwigs who guided the club's opinion reappeared, and everybody began speaking clearly and definitely.
He walked shyly and awkwardly over the parquet floor of the reception room, not knowing what to do with his hands; he was more accustomed to walk over a plowed field under fire, as he had done at the head of the Kursk regiment at Schon Grabern--and he would have found that easier.
It was at first impossible to enter the drawing-room door for the crowd of members and guests jostling one another and trying to get a good look at Bagration over each other's shoulders, as if he were some rare animal.
Count Ilya, again thrusting his way through the crowd, went out of the drawing room and reappeared a minute later with another committeeman, carrying a large silver salver which he presented to Prince Bagration.
The door opened, and from the dining room came the resounding strains of the polonaise:
Three hundred persons took their seats in the dining room, according to their rank and importance: the more important nearer to the honored guest, as naturally as water flows deepest where the land lies lowest.
The night after the duel he did not go to his bedroom but, as he often did, remained in his father's room, that huge room in which Count Bezukhov had died.
Such a storm of feelings, thoughts, and memories suddenly arose within him that he could not fall asleep, nor even remain in one place, but had to jump up and pace the room with rapid steps.
Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand.
Princess Mary ran out of the room to fetch Mary Bogdanovna.
Five minutes later Princess Mary from her room heard something heavy being carried by.
Princess Mary sat alone in her room listening to the sounds in the house, now and then opening her door when someone passed and watching what was going on in the passage.
Suddenly her door opened softly and her old nurse, Praskovya Savishna, who hardly ever came to that room as the old prince had forbidden it, appeared on the threshold with a shawl round her head.
After a while he re-entered it as if to snuff the candles, and, seeing the prince was lying on the sofa, looked at him, noticed his perturbed face, shook his head, and going up to him silently kissed him on the shoulder and left the room without snuffing the candles or saying why he had entered.
Prince Andrew went again to his wife and sat waiting in the room next to hers.
In a corner of the room something red and tiny gave a grunt and squealed in Mary Bogdanovna's trembling white hands.
Prince Andrew sat in another room, faint with fear lest the baby should be drowned in the font, and awaited the termination of the ceremony.
He glided silently on one foot half across the room, and seeming not to notice the chairs was dashing straight at them, when suddenly, clinking his spurs and spreading out his legs, he stopped short on his heels, stood so a second, stamped on the spot clanking his spurs, whirled rapidly round, and, striking his left heel against his right, flew round again in a circle.
He was at once shown to the best room, which Dolokhov had taken for that evening.
He was flushed and bathed in perspiration, though the room was not hot.
"Everything's still the same with them," thought Nicholas, glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother with the old lady.
He continued to pace the room, looking gloomily at Denisov and the girls and avoiding their eyes.
"Now, Sonya!" she said, going to the very middle of the room, where she considered the resonance was best.
I will tell him myself, and you'll listen at the door, and Natasha ran across the drawing room to the dancing hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord with his face in his hands.
He looked at the countess, and seeing her severe face said: "Well, good-by, Countess," and kissing her hand, he left the room with quick resolute strides, without looking at Natasha.
The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling Torzhok embroidery came into the room offering their services.
"I make bold to ask your excellency to move a little for this gentleman," said the postmaster, entering the room followed by another traveler, also detained for lack of horses.
"Can he really be going away leaving me alone without having told me all, and without promising to help me?" thought Pierre, rising with downcast head; and he began to pace the room, glancing occasionally at the Mason.
The room was in black darkness, only a small lamp was burning inside something white.
He was conducted from that room along passages that turned backwards and forwards and was at last brought to the doors of the Lodge.
Pierre gradually began to recover himself and looked about at the room and at the people in it.
Boris, grown more manly and looking fresh, rosy and self-possessed, entered the drawing room elegantly dressed in the uniform of an aide-de- camp and was duly conducted to pay his respects to the aunt and then brought back to the general circle.
To be in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room he considered an important step up in the service, and he at once understood his role, letting his hostess make use of whatever interest he had to offer.
The mails are taken to the field marshal's room, for he likes to do everything himself.
He quickly entered the small reception room with its still-unplastered wooden walls redolent of pine, and would have gone farther, but Anton ran ahead on tiptoe and knocked at a door.
In her snug room, with lamps burning before the icon stand, a young lad with a long nose and long hair, wearing a monk's cassock, sat on the sofa beside her, behind a samovar.
Prince Andrew went out of the room, and then, leaving "God's folk" to finish their tea, Princess Mary took Pierre into the drawing room.
Denisov patted him on the shoulder and began rapidly pacing the room without looking at Rostov, as was his way at moments of deep feeling.
The trench itself was the room, in which the lucky ones, such as the squadron commander, had a board, lying on piles at the end opposite the entrance, to serve as a table.
In the long room, brightly lit up by the sun through the large windows, the sick and wounded lay in two rows with their heads to the walls, and leaving a passage in the middle.
Rostov went to the middle of the room and looking through the open doors into the two adjoining rooms saw the same thing there.
Just then a commissariat soldier, a hospital orderly, came in from the next room, marching stiffly, and drew up in front of Rostov.
The first person Rostov met in the officers' ward was a thin little man with one arm, who was walking about the first room in a nightcap and hospital dressing gown, with a pipe between his teeth.
"Here, here," and Tushin led him into the next room, from whence came sounds of several laughing voices.
As if you could come at a wrong time! said Boris, and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his.
But if you are tired, come and lie down in my room and have a rest.
They went into the little room where Boris slept.
"Well then, go, go, go..." said Rostov, and refusing supper and remaining alone in the little room, he walked up and down for a long time, hearing the lighthearted French conversation from the next room.
It was hot in the room, the inside shutters of which were closed.
His room was on the first floor.
And if anyone came into his room at such moments he was particularly cold, stern, and above all unpleasantly logical.
On the appointed day Prince Andrew entered Count Arakcheev's waiting room at nine in the morning.
Then suddenly the grating sound of a harsh voice was heard from the other side of the door, and the officer--with pale face and trembling lips--came out and passed through the waiting room, clutching his head.
Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man of forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep wrinkles, scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an overhanging red nose.
He was that absent-minded crank, a grand seigneur husband who was in no one's way, and far from spoiling the high tone and general impression of the drawing room, he served, by the contrast he presented to her, as an advantageous background to his elegant and tactful wife.
He entered his wife's drawing room as one enters a theater, was acquainted with everybody, equally pleased to see everyone, and equally indifferent to them all.
Then it seemed that we all left the room and something strange happened.
I saw that I was in Moscow in my house, in the big sitting room, and Joseph Alexeevich came in from the drawing room.
When he entered the Rostovs' drawing room Natasha was in her own room.
When she heard of his arrival she almost ran into the drawing room, flushed and beaming with a more than cordial smile.
Only not quite my taste--he is so narrow, like the dining-room clock....
Sonya stood ready dressed in the middle of the room and, pressing the head of a pin till it hurt her dainty finger, was fixing on a last ribbon that squeaked as the pin went through it.
Charming! cried Natasha, as she stood in the middle of the room smoothing out the folds of the gauze.
She had washed behind her ears just as carefully, and when she entered her drawing room in her yellow dress, wearing her badge as maid of honor, her old lady's maid was as full of rapturous admiration as the Rostovs' servants had been.
She pointed to a lady who was crossing the room followed by a very plain daughter.
The Emperor passed on to the drawing room, the crowd made a rush for the doors, and several persons with excited faces hurried there and back again.
Then the crowd hastily retired from the drawing-room door, at which the Emperor reappeared talking to the hostess.
Everyone moved back, and the Emperor came smiling out of the drawing room leading his hostess by the hand but not keeping time to the music.
When her partner left her Natasha ran across the room to choose two ladies for the figure.
Hardly had he got rid of his hat before he ran into Prince Andrew's room with a preoccupied air and at once began talking.
When Prince Andrew entered the room Magnitski's words were again crowned by laughter.
Having lit his candle he sat up in bed, then got up, then lay down again not at all troubled by his sleeplessness: his soul was as fresh and joyful as if he had stepped out of a stuffy room into God's own fresh air.
Berg and Vera could not repress their smiles of satisfaction at the sight of all this movement in their drawing room, at the sound of the disconnected talk, the rustling of dresses, and the bowing and scraping.
After playing out a whole suit and to his partner's delight taking five tricks, Pierre, hearing greetings and the steps of someone who had entered the room while he was picking up his tricks, glanced again at Natasha.
Toward midnight, after he had left the countess' apartments, he was sitting upstairs in a shabby dressing gown, copying out the original transaction of the Scottish lodge of Freemasons at a table in his low room cloudy with tobacco smoke, when someone came in.
Natasha had no desire to go out anywhere and wandered from room to room like a shadow, idle and listless.
When she had finished her first exercise she stood still in the middle of the room and sang a musical phrase that particularly pleased her.
Things are nice as it is, she said to herself, and she began walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on the resounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to the toe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to the regular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had to the sounds of her own voice.
A footman wanted to come in to clear away something in the room but she would not let him, and having closed the door behind him continued her walk.
Before the countess could answer, Prince Andrew entered the room with an agitated and serious face.
The father and mother came into the room and gave the betrothed couple their blessing.
Nor did she cry when he was gone; but for several days she sat in her room dry-eyed, taking no interest in anything and only saying now and then, "Oh, why did he go away?"
Once, when in a room with a lamp dimly lit before the icon Theodosia was talking of her life, the thought that Theodosia alone had found the true path of life suddenly came to Princess Mary with such force that she resolved to become a pilgrim herself.
Mitenka's wife and sisters-in-law thrust their heads and frightened faces out of the door of a room where a bright samovar was boiling and where the steward's high bedstead stood with its patchwork quilt.
Though Daniel was not a big man, to see him in a room was like seeing a horse or a bear on the floor among the furniture and surroundings of human life.
It seemed to Daniel irksome and improper to be in a room at all, but to have anything to do with a young lady seemed to him impossible.
Rugay, his back still muddy, came into the room and lay down on the sofa, cleaning himself with his tongue and teeth.
The door at the end of the passage led to the huntsmen's room, as they called the room for the hunt servants.
It was the custom for Mitka to play the balalayka in the huntsmen's room when "Uncle" returned from the chase.
"Ah, there are still lights in the drawing-room!" she said, pointing to the windows of the house that gleamed invitingly in the moist velvety darkness of the night.
Sonya sat in the drawing room at the round table, copying a design for embroidery.
Natasha came into the room, went up to Sonya, glanced at what she was doing, and then went up to her mother and stood without speaking.
She passed into the sitting room, stood there thinking awhile, and then went into the maids' room.
After tea, Nicholas, Sonya, and Natasha went to the sitting room, to their favorite corner where their most intimate talks always began.
In the middle of their talk in the sitting room, Dimmler came in and went up to the harp that stood there in a corner.
It was dark in the room especially where they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows the silvery light of the full moon fell on the floor.
None of them, not even the middle-aged Dimmler, wanted to break off their conversation and quit that corner in the sitting room, but Natasha got up and Nicholas sat down at the clavichord.
Besides, you wouldn't have room to turn round there.
Pelageya Danilovna Melyukova, a broadly built, energetic woman wearing spectacles, sat in the drawing room in a loose dress, surrounded by her daughters whom she was trying to keep from feeling dull.
The visitors were invited to supper in the drawing room, and the serfs had something served to them in the ballroom.
A few minutes later Mademoiselle Bourienne came into Princess Mary's room smiling and making cheerful remarks in her agreeable voice.
"Leave my room," she exclaimed, and burst into sobs.
After admitting the doctor, Princess Mary sat down with a book in the drawing room near the door through which she could hear all that passed in the study.
The small group that assembled before dinner in the lofty old-fashioned drawing room with its old furniture resembled the solemn gathering of a court of justice.
When they went into the drawing room where coffee was served, the old men sat together.
When they got home she turned everybody out of the room except Natasha, and then called her pet to her armchair.
When the count was already leaving the room, Princess Mary went up hurriedly to Natasha, took her by the hand, and said with a deep sigh:
She sat in her room crying like a child, blowing her nose and sobbing.
After she had gone, a dressmaker from Madame Suppert-Roguet waited on the Rostovs, and Natasha, very glad of this diversion, having shut herself into a room adjoining the drawing room, occupied herself trying on the new dresses.
Natasha had not time to take off the bodice before the door opened and Countess Bezukhova, dressed in a purple velvet gown with a high collar, came into the room beaming with good-humored amiable smiles.
Mademoiselle George was standing in a corner of the drawing room surrounded by young men.
Soon after their arrival Mademoiselle George went out of the room to change her costume.
In the drawing room people began arranging the chairs and taking their seats.
Later on she recalled how she had asked her father to let her go to the dressing room to rearrange her dress, that Helene had followed her and spoken laughingly of her brother's love, and that she again met Anatole in the little sitting room.
Natasha did not reply and went to her own room to read Princess Mary's letter.
After dinner Natasha went to her room and again took up Princess Mary's letter.
"Please, Miss!" whispered a maid entering the room with a mysterious air.
On returning late in the evening Sonya went to Natasha's room, and to her surprise found her still dressed and asleep on the sofa.
The day before the count was to return, Sonya noticed that Natasha sat by the drawing-room window all the morning as if expecting something and that she made a sign to an officer who drove past, whom Sonya took to be Anatole.
Anatole, with uniform unbuttoned, walked to and fro from the room where the witnesses were sitting, through the study to the room behind, where his French valet and others were packing the last of his things.
"Go to the devil!" cried Anatole and, clutching his hair, left the room, but returned at once and dropped into an armchair in front of Dolokhov with his feet turned under him.
On entering the room now he crossed himself, turning toward the front corner of the room, and went up to Dolokhov, holding out a small, black hand.
Anatole went out of the room and returned a few minutes later wearing a fur coat girt with a silver belt, and a sable cap jauntily set on one side and very becoming to his handsome face.
Marya Dmitrievna, having found Sonya weeping in the corridor, made her confess everything, and intercepting the note to Natasha she read it and went into Natasha's room with it in her hand.
Toward midnight she went to Natasha's room fingering the key in her pocket.
She entered the room with resolute steps.
"Well, let her sleep," said Marya Dmitrievna as she went out of the room supposing Natasha to be asleep.
Natasha had not left her room that morning.
She glanced round at him, frowned, and left the room with an expression of cold dignity.
Sonya entered the room with an agitated face.
Natasha is not quite well; she's in her room and would like to see you.
Pierre did not stay for dinner, but left the room and went away at once.
The countess' drawing room was full of guests.
Pierre without greeting his wife whom he had not seen since his return-- at that moment she was more repulsive to him than ever--entered the drawing room and seeing Anatole went up to him.
"If you allow yourself in my drawing room..." whispered Helene, but Pierre did not reply and went out of the room.
"Secondly," he continued after a short pause, again rising and again pacing the room, "tomorrow you must get out of Moscow."
Pierre paced the room several times in silence.
She sighed, looking toward the door of the room where Prince Andrew was, evidently intending to express her sympathy with his sorrow, but Pierre saw by her face that she was glad both at what had happened and at the way her brother had taken the news of Natasha's faithlessness.
Pierre left the room and went to the old prince and Princess Mary.
The room there has not been tidied up.
"No, she has dressed and gone into the drawing room," said Sonya.
Natasha was standing in the middle of the drawing room, emaciated, with a pale set face, but not at all shamefaced as Pierre expected to find her.
Till then he had reproached her in his heart and tried to despise her, but he now felt so sorry for her that there was no room in his soul for reproach.
I am not worth it! exclaimed Natasha and turned to leave the room, but Pierre held her hand.
He took Balashev by the arm and crossed the room with him, unconsciously clearing a path seven yards wide as the people on both sides made way for him.
The Comte de Turenne showed him into a big reception room where many generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates--several of whom Balashev had seen at the court of the Emperor of Russia--were waiting.
After some minutes, the gentleman-in-waiting who was on duty came into the great reception room and, bowing politely, asked Balashev to follow him.
Balashev went into a small reception room, one door of which led into a study, the very one from which the Russian Emperor had dispatched him on his mission.
He went in silence from one corner of the room to the other and again stopped in front of Balashev.
And he walked silently several times up and down the room, his fat shoulders twitching.
Everyone in the reception room rushed forward and descended the staircase.
That day he did not see his father, who did not leave his room and admitted no one but Mademoiselle Bourienne and Tikhon, but asked several times whether his son had gone.
Chernyshev was sitting at a window in the first room with a French novel in his hand.
Prince Andrew had an opportunity of getting a good look at him, for Pfuel arrived soon after himself and, in passing through to the drawing room, stopped a minute to speak to Chernyshev.
He entered the room, looking restlessly and angrily around, as if afraid of everything in that large apartment.
He passed into the next room, and the deep, querulous sounds of his voice were at once heard from there.
Prince Andrew's eyes were still following Pfuel out of the room when Count Bennigsen entered hurriedly, and nodding to Bolkonski, but not pausing, went into the study, giving instructions to his adjutant as he went.
Prince Andrew, taking advantage of the Emperor's permission, accompanied Paulucci, whom he had known in Turkey, into the drawing room where the council was assembled.
Rostov and Ilyin, on entering the room, were welcomed with merry shouts and laughter.
Don't make our drawing room so wet.
As soon as he had left the room all the officers burst into loud laughter and Mary Hendrikhovna blushed till her eyes filled with tears and thereby became still more attractive to them.
But when he had gone into another room, to which the countess hurriedly followed him, he assumed a grave air and thoughtfully shaking his head said that though there was danger, he had hopes of the effect of this last medicine and one must wait and see, that the malady was chiefly mental, but...
He opened the door softly and saw her, in the lilac dress she had worn at church, walking about the room singing.
Pierre walked up and down the drawing room, not listening to what Petya was saying.
There, there, I tell you, and the count moved to go out of the room, taking the papers, probably to reread them in his study before having a nap.
After the definite refusal he had received, Petya went to his room and there locked himself in and wept bitterly.
From the host's room came the sounds of a child crying, the despairing sobs of a woman, and the hoarse angry shouting of Ferapontov.
At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where he had left his purchases.
Prince Vasili entered the room with the air of a happy conqueror who has attained the object of his desires.
She spent the night of the fourteenth as usual, without undressing, in the room next to the one where the prince lay.
Princess Mary entered her father's room and went up to his bed.
When she had left the room the prince again began speaking about his son, about the war, and about the Emperor, angrily twitching his brows and raising his hoarse voice, and then he had a second and final stroke.
She opened the door and the bright daylight in that previously darkened room startled her.
In the room were her nurse and other women.
Toward night candles were burning round his coffin, a pall was spread over it, the floor was strewn with sprays of juniper, a printed band was tucked in under his shriveled head, and in a corner of the room sat a chanter reading the psalms.
Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the inmates of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round the coffin--the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women--and all with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and kissed the old prince's cold and stiffened hand.
After her father's funeral Princess Mary shut herself up in her room and did not admit anyone.
The windows of the room in which she was lying looked westward.
The sun had reached the other side of the house, and its slanting rays shone into the open window, lighting up the room and part of the morocco cushion at which Princess Mary was looking.
Agitated and flushed she paced the room, sending now for Michael Ivanovich and now for Tikhon or Dron.
At length Dron, the village Elder, entered the room and with a deep bow to Princess Mary came to a halt by the doorpost.
Princess Mary walked up and down the room and stopped in front of him.
Having repeated her order to Dron to have horses ready for her departure next morning, she went to her room and remained alone with her own thoughts.
For a long time that night Princess Mary sat by the open window of her room hearing the sound of the peasants' voices that reached her from the village, but it was not of them she was thinking.
Why didn't I enter the room? she thought.
Princess Mary was sitting helpless and bewildered in the large sitting room, when Rostov was shown in.
Rostov, knitting his brows, left the room with another low bow.
Bolkonski made room for him on the bench and the lieutenant colonel sat down beside him.
But Kutuzov evidently did not wish to enter that room till he was disengaged.
"Well, my dear, and how are we getting on?" he asked, moving to the door of the room assigned to him.
In the corner room at the club, members gathered to read these broadsheets, and some liked the way Karpushka jeered at the French, saying: They will swell up with Russian cabbage, burst with our buckwheat porridge, and choke themselves with cabbage soup.
Every house in Mozhaysk had soldiers quartered in it, and at the hostel where Pierre was met by his groom and coachman there was no room to be had.
The men, women, and children of the large peasant family crowded into the back room across the passage.
Malasha looked down from the oven with shy delight at the faces, uniforms, and decorations of the generals, who one after another came into the room and sat down on the broad benches in the corner under the icons.
The one thing he now desired with his whole soul was to get away quickly from the terrible sensations amid which he had lived that day and return to ordinary conditions of life and sleep quietly in a room in his own bed.
There was not a room to be had at the inn, they were all occupied.
As Pierre was entering the reception room a courier from the army came out of Rostopchin's private room.
While waiting in the reception room Pierre with weary eyes watched the various officials, old and young, military and civilian, who were there.
When he entered the private room Count Rostopchin, puckering his face, was rubbing his forehead and eyes with his hand.
Pierre did not answer and left Rostopchin's room more sullen and angry than he had ever before shown himself.
For a while she had stood beside Sonya while the china was being packed and tried to help, but soon gave it up and went to her room to pack her own things.
She was roused from her reverie by the talk of the maids in the next room (which was theirs) and by the sound of their hurried footsteps going to the back porch.
Even if we put them into the wing, the men's room, or the nurse's room, we must ask permission.
Natasha ran into the house and went on tiptoe through the half-open door into the sitting room, where there was a smell of vinegar and Hoffman's drops.
Sonya and Natasha slept in the sitting room without undressing.
Flourishing his arms in despair the count left the room without replying.
From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into the drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of Natasha and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health.
Just then the countess came in from the sitting room with a weary and dissatisfied expression.
Natasha left the room with her father and, as if finding it difficult to reach some decision, first followed him and then ran downstairs.
The count, pipe in hand, was pacing up and down the room, when Natasha, her face distorted by anger, burst in like a tempest and approached her mother with rapid steps.
When he was informed that among others awaiting him in his reception room there was a Frenchman who had brought a letter from his wife, the Countess Helene, he felt suddenly overcome by that sense of confusion and hopelessness to which he was apt to succumb.
Smiling unnaturally and muttering to himself, he first sat down on the sofa in an attitude of despair, then rose, went to the door of the reception room and peeped through the crack, returned flourishing his arms, and took up a book.
But as soon as the man had left the room Pierre took up his hat which was lying on the table and went out of his study by the other door.
The room, dusty and untouched since the death of Joseph Bazdeev was now even gloomier.
Gerasim opened one of the shutters and left the room on tiptoe.
Ignat left off smiling, adjusted his belt, and went out of the room with meekly downcast eyes.
Mavra Kuzminichna flicked the dust off the clavichord and closed it, and with a deep sigh left the drawing room and locked its main door.
On benches round the tables in a dirty little room sat some ten factory hands.
While Pierre, standing in the middle of the room, was talking to himself in this way, the study door opened and on the threshold appeared the figure of Makar Alexeevich, always so timid before but now quite transformed.
When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latter again thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French and wished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it.
He was so very polite, amiable, good-natured, and genuinely grateful to Pierre for saving his life that Pierre had not the heart to refuse, and sat down with him in the parlor--the first room they entered.
When he returned to the room Pierre was sitting in the same place as before, with his head in his hands.
The captain returned to the room, limping slightly and whistling a tune.
He paced up and down the room twice.
Without taking leave of his new friend, Pierre left the gate with unsteady steps and returning to his room lay down on the sofa and immediately fell asleep.
For a long time Natasha listened attentively to the sounds that reached her from inside and outside the room and did not move.
It seemed to her that something heavy was beating rhythmically against all the walls of the room: it was her own heart, sinking with alarm and terror and overflowing with love.
She cautiously took one step and then another, and found herself in the middle of a small room containing baggage.
Like a somnambulist aroused from her sleep Natasha went out of the room and, returning to her hut, fell sobbing on her bed.
When he had parted from Malvintseva Nicholas wished to return to the dancing, but the governor's little wife placed her plump hand on his sleeve and, saying that she wanted to have a talk with him, led him to her sitting room, from which those who were there immediately withdrew so as not to be in her way.
But when on Sunday after church the footman announced in the drawing room that Count Rostov had called, the princess showed no confusion, only a slight blush suffused her cheeks and her eyes lit up with a new and radiant light.
When Rostov entered the room, the princess dropped her eyes for an instant, as if to give the visitor time to greet her aunt, and then just as Nicholas turned to her she raised her head and met his look with shining eyes.
Mademoiselle Bourienne, who was in the drawing room, looked at Princess Mary in bewildered surprise.
When he had finished that business it was already too late to go anywhere but still too early to go to bed, and for a long time he paced up and down the room, reflecting on his life, a thing he rarely did.
Unable to sit still he paced up and down the room holding the letter and reading it.
He glanced through it, then read it again, and then again, and standing still in the middle of the room he raised his shoulders, stretching out his hands, with his mouth wide open and his eyes fixed.
In the next room sat the count and countess respectfully conversing with the prior, who was calling on them as old acquaintances and benefactors of the monastery.
Natasha opened it cautiously and glanced into the room, Sonya standing beside her at the half-open door.
In spite of this he was placed that day with the other arrested suspects, as the separate room he had occupied was required by an officer.
There will be room for everybody, this is a big house.
The countess took Princess Mary into the drawing room, where Sonya was talking to Mademoiselle Bourienne.
As soon as Natasha, sitting at the head of Prince Andrew's bed, heard of Princess Mary's arrival, she softly left his room and hastened to her with those swift steps that had sounded buoyant to Princess Mary.
There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into the drawing room--that of love--boundless love for him, for her, and for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping them.
They sat a little while downstairs near his room till they had left off crying and were able to go to him with calm faces.
When Natasha opened Prince Andrew's door with a familiar movement and let Princess Mary pass into the room before her, the princess felt the sobs in her throat.
When little Nicholas was brought into Prince Andrew's room he looked at his father with frightened eyes, but did not cry, because no one else was crying.
He understood it completely, and, leaving the room without crying, went silently up to Natasha who had come out with him and looked shyly at her with his beautiful, thoughtful eyes, then his uplifted, rosy upper lip trembled and leaning his head against her he began to cry.
He dreamed that he was lying in the room he really was in, but that he was quite well and unwounded.
In the refreshment room and the hall, footmen were bustling about with wine and viands.
In the middle of the room a short handsome general with a red face was dancing the trepak with much spirit and agility.
There was a stir in the next room and he heard the steps of Toll, Konovnitsyn, and Bolkhovitinov.
He tried to say something, but his face suddenly puckered and wrinkled; he waved his arm at Toll and turned to the opposite side of the room, to the corner darkened by the icons that hung there.
In the room three officers of Denisov's band were converting a door into a tabletop.
He took off his wet felt cloak in a corner of the room, and without greeting anyone went up to Denisov and began questioning him about the matter in hand.
And she ran out of the room, with difficulty refraining from tears of vexation and irritation rather than of sorrow.
After she felt herself deserted by Princes Mary and alone in her grief, Natasha spent most of the time in her room by herself, sitting huddled up feet and all in the corner of the sofa, tearing and twisting something with her slender nervous fingers and gazing intently and fixedly at whatever her eyes chanced to fall on.
Dunyasha, her maid, entered the room quickly and abruptly with a frightened look on her face and showing no concern for her mistress.
He had evidently run out of that room to give vent to the sobs that were choking him.
Princess Mary, pale and with quivering chin, came out from that room and taking Natasha by the arm said something to her.
One afternoon noticing Natasha shivering with fever, Princess Mary took her to her own room and made her lie down on the bed.
Natasha lay on the bed and in the semidarkness of the room scanned Princess Mary's face.
In a rather low room lit by one candle sat the princess and with her another person dressed in black.
She got up quickly just as Nicholas entered, almost ran to the door which was hidden by curtains, struck her head against it, and rushed from the room with a moan either of pain or sorrow.
Before Pierre left the room Princess Mary told him: "This is the first time she has talked of him like that."
Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining room; a few minutes later he heard footsteps and Princess Mary entered with Natasha.
By this time he had risen from the table and was pacing the room, Natasha following him with her eyes.
He paced up and down his room, now turning his thoughts on a difficult problem and frowning, now suddenly shrugging his shoulders and wincing, and now smiling happily.
But he had hardly entered the room before he felt her presence with his whole being by the loss of his sense of freedom.
Nicholas was the first to meet her, as the countess' room could only be reached through his.
When the princess came out of the countess' room Nicholas met her again, and with marked solemnity and stiffness accompanied her to the anteroom.
And without a word to his wife he went to the little sitting room and lay down on the sofa.
Having sat awhile with her visitors without understanding anything of what they were saying, she softly left the room and went to the nursery.
"Mary, dear, I think he is asleep--he was so tired," said Sonya, meeting her in the large sitting room (it seemed to Countess Mary that she crossed her path everywhere).
From the room in which Nicholas was sleeping came the sound of his even breathing, every slightest tone of which was familiar to his wife.
Five minutes later little black-eyed three-year-old Natasha, her father's pet, having learned from her brother that Papa was asleep and Mamma was in the sitting room, ran to her father unobserved by her mother.
And Nicholas, taking his little daughter in his strong hand, lifted her high, placed her on his shoulder, held her by the legs, and paced the room with her.
"It is he, it is he, Nicholas!" said Countess Mary, re-entering the room a few minutes later.
She was nursing her boy when the sound of Pierre's sleigh was heard at the front door, and the old nurse--knowing how to please her mistress-- entered the room inaudibly but hurriedly and with a beaming face.
Denisov, who had come out of the study into the dancing room with his pipe, now for the first time recognized the old Natasha.
The countess was sitting with her companion Belova, playing grand- patience as usual, when Pierre and Natasha came into the drawing room with parcels under their arms.
When her vocal organs needed exercise, which was usually toward seven o'clock when she had had an after-dinner rest in a darkened room, the pretext would be the retelling of the same stories over and over again to the same audience.
When Pierre and his wife entered the drawing room the countess was in one of her customary states in which she needed the mental exertion of playing patience, and so--though by force of habit she greeted him with the words she always used when Pierre or her son returned after an absence: High time, my dear, high time!
"Why this," began Pierre, not sitting down but pacing the room, sometimes stopping short, gesticulating, and lisping: "the position in Petersburg is this: the Emperor does not look into anything.
They circled the room twice before a hand reached up and tapped Alex on the shoulder.
When she reached Destiny's room, Jonathan was already dressed and was helping Destiny.
Jonathan and Destiny's room had two twin beds in it, as well as a television.
After she left the room, Carmen glanced down at her dress and then at Alex.
Felipa met them in the main room downstairs.
The room was silent for a few minutes after they left.
The room felt comfortable and the children were asleep.
"We have plenty of room at the house," Alex stated brusquely.
"We've all been working on the room for the baby," Carmen added.
Jonathan came into the room, fully dressed.
After supper they all gathered in the room with the tree.
On the other side of the thick entry door was a sitting room with lush wine colored carpet.
Jonathan was in his room watching television.
She found Felipa and Destiny in the dining room where they were having an ice cream snack.
Alex was lounging with one shoulder against the wall on the other side of the family room when Carmen walked in.
She dropped to her pillow, wondering if she was the only one who thought their exchange across the living room ended the quarrel.
The door stood open and a table was set in the front room, with four chairs drawn up to it.
This mollified Jim a little, and after some thought the green maiden decided to give the cab-horse a room in the palace, such a big building having many rooms that were seldom in use.
It will seem like being at home again, for I lived in that room for many, many years.
Zeb was also escorted to a room--so grand and beautiful that he almost feared to sit in the chairs or lie upon the bed, lest he might dim their splendor.
"I have hunted in every part of the room," the maid replied.
So the two went to the dressing-room of the Princess and searched carefully in every corner and among the vases and baskets and ornaments that stood about the pretty boudoir.
So, if you are innocent, Eureka, you must tell the Princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet.
At three o'clock the Throne Room was crowded with citizens, men, women and children being eager to witness the great trial.
I will confess that I intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so I crept into the room where it was kept while the Princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair.
The feast was held in the grandest room of the palace.
"Have you a room here for me?" he asked the landlord.
Every room is full.
If you'll come back to my house, you shall have the best room in it--yes, all the rooms if you wish.
The king went back to the room on tiptoe.
He opened his eyes and looked around at the small, plain room and at the poor people standing near him.
Often everything in the room was arranged in object sentences.
There were in the room a child's cot, two boxes, two armchairs, a table, a child's table, and the little chair on which Prince Andrew was sitting.
And the count stepped as briskly back into the room and slammed the door behind him.
Come to your room, please, and rest.
When Natasha left the room Pierre's confusion and awkwardness immediately vanished and were replaced by eager excitement.
When Princess Mary returned to her room after her nocturnal talk with Pierre, Natasha met her on the threshold.
He tried to avoid his old acquaintances with their commiseration and offensive offers of assistance; he avoided all distraction and recreation, and even at home did nothing but play cards with his mother, pace silently up and down the room, and smoke one pipe after another.
"Come, Anna Makarovna," Pierre's voice was heard saying, "come here into the middle of the room and at the word of command, 'One, two,' and when I say 'three'... You stand here, and you in my arms--well now!
She grinned up at Alex as they left the room to go downstairs for breakfast.
Slowly carrying the full cups into the living room, she handed one to Alex.