At that moment Pierre involuntarily betrayed to her, to Princess Mary, and above all to himself, a secret of which he himself had been unaware. He flushed joyfully yet with painful distress. He tried to hide his agitation. But the more he tried to hide it the more clearlyclearer than any words could have donedid he betray to himself, to her, and to Princess Mary that he loved her.

“Would you care for anythin’ but savin’ yourself? Should I? No, no,” she laughed, “not one scrap—don’t tell me. There’s only two creatures the ordinary woman cares about,” she continued, “her child and her dog; and I don’t believe it’s even two with men. One reads a lot about love—that’s why poetry’s so dull. But what happens in real life, he? It ain’t love!” she cried.