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"
But
two
days
ago
this
suddenly
happened
,
"
said
Natásha
,
struggling
with
her
sobs
.
"
I
do
n't
know
why
,
but
you
will
see
what
he
is
like
.
"
"
Is
he
weaker
?
Thinner
?
"
asked
the
princess
.
"
No
,
it
's
not
that
,
but
worse
.
You
will
see
.
O
,
Mary
,
he
is
too
good
,
he
can
not
,
can
not
live
,
because
...
"
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When
Natásha
opened
Prince
Andrew
's
door
with
a
familiar
movement
and
let
Princess
Mary
pass
into
the
room
before
her
,
the
princess
felt
the
sobs
in
her
throat
.
Hard
as
she
had
tried
to
prepare
herself
,
and
now
tried
to
remain
tranquil
,
she
knew
that
she
would
be
unable
to
look
at
him
without
tears
.
The
princess
understood
what
Natásha
had
meant
by
the
words
:
"
two
days
ago
this
suddenly
happened
.
"
She
understood
those
words
to
mean
that
he
had
suddenly
softened
and
that
this
softening
and
gentleness
were
signs
of
approaching
death
.
As
she
stepped
to
the
door
she
already
saw
in
imagination
Andrew
's
face
as
she
remembered
it
in
childhood
,
a
gentle
,
mild
,
sympathetic
face
which
he
had
rarely
shown
,
and
which
therefore
affected
her
very
strongly
.
She
was
sure
he
would
speak
soft
,
tender
words
to
her
such
as
her
father
had
uttered
before
his
death
,
and
that
she
would
not
be
able
to
bear
it
and
would
burst
into
sobs
in
his
presence
.
Yet
sooner
or
later
it
had
to
be
,
and
she
went
in
.
The
sobs
rose
higher
and
higher
in
her
throat
as
she
more
and
more
clearly
distinguished
his
form
and
her
shortsighted
eyes
tried
to
make
out
his
features
,
and
then
she
saw
his
face
and
met
his
gaze
.
He
was
lying
in
a
squirrel-fur
dressing
gown
on
a
divan
,
surrounded
by
pillows
.
He
was
thin
and
pale
.
In
one
thin
,
translucently
white
hand
he
held
a
handkerchief
,
while
with
the
other
he
stroked
the
delicate
mustache
he
had
grown
,
moving
his
fingers
slowly
.
His
eyes
gazed
at
them
as
they
entered
.
On
seeing
his
face
and
meeting
his
eyes
Princess
Mary
's
pace
suddenly
slackened
,
she
felt
her
tears
dry
up
and
her
sobs
ceased
.
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She
suddenly
felt
guilty
and
grew
timid
on
catching
the
expression
of
his
face
and
eyes
.
"
But
in
what
am
I
to
blame
?
"
she
asked
herself
.
And
his
cold
,
stern
look
replied
:
"
Because
you
are
alive
and
thinking
of
the
living
,
while
I.
.
.
"
In
the
deep
gaze
that
seemed
to
look
not
outwards
but
inwards
there
was
an
almost
hostile
expression
as
he
slowly
regarded
his
sister
and
Natásha
.