Page 232 of 3800

Sophie, the rosy, laughter-loving, youngest princess with the

mole, watched him. She smiled, hid her face in her handkerchief,

and remained with it hidden for awhile; then looking up and

seeing Pierre she again began to laugh. She evidently felt unable

to look at him without laughing, but could not resist looking at

him: so to be out of temptation she slipped quietly behind one of

the columns. In the midst of the service the voices of the

priests suddenly ceased, they whispered to one another, and the

old servant who was holding the count's hand got up and said

something to the ladies. Anna Mikhaylovna stepped forward and,

stooping over the dying man, beckoned to Lorrain from behind her

back. The French doctor held no taper; he was leaning against one

of the columns in a respectful attitude implying that he, a

foreigner, in spite of all differences of faith, understood the

full importance of the rite now being performed and even approved

of it.