The countess kept glancing with timid horror at her son's merry, flushed face...She knew that if she said a word about it, if she asked Petya not to go to this battle...he would say something about men, honor, the fatherland--something senseless, masculine, obstinate, against which it would be impossible to object--and the matter would be spoiled, and therefore, hoping to arrange everything so as to leave before then and take Petya along as a defender and protector, she said nothing to Petya, but summoned the count after dinner and tearfully implored him to take her away quickly, that same night if possible. With the involuntary feminine cunning of love, she, who so far had shown perfect fearlessness, said that she would die of fear unless they left that night. She was afraid of everything now, without feigning. --p. 855 in P/V
from page 313-14, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 5/20/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 854-856
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