When a man sees a dying animal, he has a feeling of horror: a thing that is essentially the same as himself, seems to be annihilated-no longer exists.However, the person who is about to die is a person, and it is also a relative of one's own, so before the death of the relative, in addition to the feeling of terror, you will also feel heartbroken and mentally traumatized. This kind of mental trauma is the same as physical trauma, sometimes It can be fatal, and sometimes it can be calmer, but the heart is always painful, and it is difficult to bear external stimuli. After Prince Andrew's death, Natasha and Princess Marya felt the same way. Because of the terrible shadow of death hanging over their heads, they were too frightened to open their eyes, and they were in a state of mental breakdown. Dare to face up to life.They carefully guard open wounds from humiliating, painful stimuli.All things: a carriage speeding by in the street, lunch pleases, handmaidens asking what Bragis to prepare, and, worse, sham solicitude, all of this stings where it hurts. It seemed to be an insult, destroying the tranquility they needed.In this tranquility they both strained to hear the terrible and solemn chorus that still continued in their imaginations, and prevented them from contemplating the mysterious, remote, remote distance that passed before their eyes.

Only when the two of them are together, do they not feel insulted and painful.They rarely talk to each other.Even when talking, only the most insignificant things are said.Both men also avoided talking about a single thing about the future. They felt that to admit that there was a future would be an affront to his memory.During their conversation, they tried their best to avoid anything that might be related to the deceased.They feel that "the unity of knowledge and action is the real power of knowledge".Slamming the feudal monarchy, what they have experienced and experienced is difficult to express in words.They felt that to mention any detail of his life was to destroy the dignity and sanctity of the mystery which was accomplished before their eyes.

They were taciturn and tried their best to avoid topics that might involve him all the time.In this way, they set up a cordon from all aspects, never talking about him.It made them feel that everything was purer and more vivid in their imagination. However, pure and infinite sorrow is as impossible as simple and infinite joy.Princess Maria, in her position to be the independent master of her own destiny and at the same time guardian and teacher to her nephew, was first awakened by the sad world into which real life had plunged from her first fortnight.She had letters from home, and she was supposed to answer them; the damp room in which Nikolushka lived made him cough.Alpatich came to Yaroslavl to report something and advised and advised to move back to Vozdvirenka's house in Moscow, which was intact and needed only minor repairs.Life does not stop, it should live on.For Princess Marya, it was very heavy to leave the world of contemplation in which she had lived until now; no matter how pity she felt for leaving Natasha alone, she felt guilty, but many things in life The problem was urgent for her to deal with, and she had no choice but to obey this request.She settled the accounts with Alpatitch, consulted with Dessalle about her nephew, and made proper arrangements for the move to Moscow.

Ever since Princess Marya was making preparations for departure, Natasha had always avoided her and was alone. Princess Marya asked the Countess to allow Natasha to go to Moscow with her, and Natasha's parents readily agreed. Seeing that their daughter's physical strength was weakening day by day, they thought that if they changed their environment, they could ask a Moscow doctor to treat her. It's good for her. On making this suggestion to Natasha, she replied: "I'm not going anywhere. Please leave me alone," she said, fighting back tears, and ran from the room, not so much mourning , rather than anger and resentment.

Ever since Natasha felt that she had been abandoned by Princess Marya and that she had to bear the grief alone, she hid most of the time alone in the room, sitting in the corner of the sofa with her legs tucked up, and with her slender, tense fingers To tear or knead something and fixate on it with persistent eyes.This solitary life weary and tormented her, and yet it was necessary to her.As soon as someone came in, she stood up immediately, changed her posture and the expression of her eyes, or picked up a book to read or did some needlework, obviously, she was eagerly waiting for the person who disturbed her to go away .

She always felt that she was about to get to the bottom of that question, which was a terrible and powerless question to which her deepest point of view wanted to explore. At the end of December, Natasha was wearing a black woolen Bragi, her braided hair was tied up in a random knot, she was thin and pale, sitting on the corner of the sofa with her legs curled up, distractedly pulling the end of the belt Rubbing back and forth, eyes fixed on the corner of the door. She was looking at the direction he went - the other side of life.She had never thought of this other side of life before, and she always felt that it was still quite far away, and it might not really exist.Now she felt that the other side of life was closer, more intimate, and more understandable than this one.And everything on this side of life is either emptiness and desolation, or pain and humiliation.

She looked at the places he knew he had been to, everything was still the same, and she couldn't imagine anything else.She saw him again in Mytishchi, in Troits, in Yaroslavl. She saw his face, heard his voice, repeated his words and her own and what she had said to her, and thought now and then of the rest of what she might have said then for him and for herself. He was lying in an easy chair in velvet leather, his head resting on his thin, pale hands.His chest was terribly sunken and his shoulders were raised.His lips were tightly shut, his eyes were shining brightly, the wrinkles on his pale forehead were now and then faintly visible, and one of his legs was trembling constantly.Natasha knew he was struggling with unbearable pain. "What kind of pain is this? Why is there such pain? How does he feel? How painful he is!" thought Natasha.Noticing her watching him, he raised his eyes, and without smiling, began to speak.

"There is one thing most dreadful," he said, "that is to bind me forever to a suffering man, and that is never-ending pain." And he looked at her tentatively.As usual, Natasha replied immediately before she could think of what to say: "It won't go on like this, it won't happen, you will definitely recover and recover completely." She saw him now, and was experiencing what she had felt then.She recalled the long, sad, stern look in his eyes as he spoke these words. She understood that this long gaze carried reproach and despair. "I admit," said Natasha to herself now, "that it would be terrible if he suffered forever. I said that only because it was terrible for him, but he thought of going away." .He thought, This is terrible for me. He wanted to live and was afraid to die. I said something rough and stupid to him. It didn't occur to me. I thought quite differently. I want to say it, then I will say: let him die, die slowly in front of my eyes, and I will be happier than now. But now... there is nothing, no one. He Know all this? No. He doesn't know, he never will. And now, forever, forever." He said the same thing to her again, but now Natasha was playing him in his imagination. completely different answer.She interrupted him and said: "You know, it's terrible to you, but it's not terrible to me. In my life, without you, I have nothing. I suffer with you, and I don't have anything in my life." Happier for me." And he took her hand, and squeezed it as tight as he had done on that dreadful night, four days before his death.Then she imagined saying to him other tender, caressing words that she might have said then. "I love you...you...I love...I love..." She clasped her hands and clenched her teeth desperately as she said this.

She was in a sweet sorrow, and tears welled up in her eyes.But suddenly she asked herself: to whom was she saying this?where is he?What is he like now?However, everything was covered by ruthless confusion, she frowned again, and she looked towards the place where he was. She seemed to feel that she was about to see through the mystery... Just when she felt that she had solved the mystery... When she understood something, the door knocker was knocked loudly, she was very surprised, and the maid Dunyasha broke into the room in a panic, regardless of the hostess's facial expression. "Please hurry to Papa's place." Dunyasha said with a very nervous expression. "Unfortunate news about Pyotr Ilyitch . . . a letter," she said, sobbing.