صفحة 624 من 3800

She always addressed him with a radiantly confiding smile meant

for him alone, in which there was something more significant than

in the general smile that usually brightened her face. Pierre

knew that everyone was waiting for him to say a word and cross a

certain line, and he knew that sooner or later he would step

across it, but an incomprehensible terror seized him at the

thought of that dreadful step. A thousand times during that month

and a half while he felt himself drawn nearer and nearer to that

dreadful abyss, Pierre said to himself: "What am I doing? I need

resolution. Can it be that I have none?"