War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [372]
Carousers, those male Magdalenes, have a hidden sense of awareness of their innocence, just as female Magdalenes have, based on the same hope of forgiveness. “Everything will be forgiven her, for she loved much; and everything will be forgiven him, for he had much fun.”11
Dolokhov, who had appeared again in Moscow that year after his banishment and his Persian adventures, and who was leading a magnificent gambling and carousing life, became close with his old Petersburg friend Kuragin and used him for his own purposes.
Anatole sincerely liked Dolokhov for his intelligence and daring; Dolokhov, who needed the name, noble birth, and connections of Anatole Kuragin to lure rich young men into his gambling company, used and toyed with Kuragin without letting him feel it. Apart from the calculation which made Anatole necessary for him, the very process of manipulating another person’s will was a pleasure, a habit, and a necessity for Dolokhov.
Natasha had made a strong impression on Kuragin. Over supper after the theater, in the manner of a connoisseur, he analyzed for Dolokhov the merits of her arms, shoulders, feet, and hair, and announced his decision to dangle after her a bit. What the result of this courtship might be, Anatole could not reflect upon or know, as he never knew what the result of any of his actions would be.
“She’s a nice one, brother, but not for us,” Dolokhov said to him.
“I’ll tell my sister to invite her to dinner,” said Anatole. “Eh?”
“You’d better wait till she’s married…”
“You know,” said Anatole, “j’adore les petites filles:*378 she’ll get all flustered.”
“You already got caught once over a petite fille,” said Dolokhov, who knew about Anatole’s marriage. “Watch out.”
“Well, as if it can’t happen twice! Eh?” said Anatole, laughing good-naturedly.
XII
The day after the theater, the Rostovs did not go anywhere, and no one came to them. Marya Dmitrievna discussed something with Natasha’s father, concealing it from her. Natasha could guess that they were talking about the old prince, working something out, and that disturbed and offended her. She was expecting Prince Andrei any moment and had sent the yard porter to Vzdvizhenka twice that day to find out if he had come. He had not. It was now harder for her than in the first days after her arrival. To her impatience and sadness were added the unpleasant memory of meeting Princess Marya and the old prince, and a fear and uneasiness of which she did not know the cause. She kept fancying either that he would never come or that something would happen to her before he came. She could not, as before, think about him calmly and for a long time, alone with herself. As soon as she began thinking about him, to her memory of him were added the memories of the old prince, of Princess Marya, of last night’s performance, and of Kuragin. She again faced the question of whether she was to blame, whether she had already broken faith with Prince Andrei, and she again found herself recalling in the minutest detail every word, every gesture, every shade of expression that had played on the face of this man, who was able to arouse in her an incomprehensible and frightening feeling. In the eyes of those around her, Natasha seemed more animated than usual, but she was far from being as calm and happy as she had been before.
On Sunday morning, Marya Dmitrievna invited her guests to the liturgy at her parish of the Dormition on Mogiltsy.12
“I don’t like these fashionable churches,” she said, obviously proud of her freedom of thought. “God is the same everywhere. We have a wonderful priest, he celebrates