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- Стр. 572/1273
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"
You
know
I
have
asked
Papa
and
Mamma
about
that
Negro
,
"
said
Natásha
,
"
and
they
say
there
was
no
Negro
at
all
.
But
you
see
,
you
remember
!
"
"
Of
course
I
do
,
I
remember
his
teeth
as
if
I
had
just
seen
them
.
"
"
How
strange
it
is
!
It
's
as
if
it
were
a
dream
!
I
like
that
.
"
"
And
do
you
remember
how
we
rolled
hard-boiled
eggs
in
the
ballroom
,
and
suddenly
two
old
women
began
spinning
round
on
the
carpet
?
Was
that
real
or
not
?
Do
you
remember
what
fun
it
was
?
"
"
Yes
,
and
you
remember
how
Papa
in
his
blue
overcoat
fired
a
gun
in
the
porch
?
"
So
they
went
through
their
memories
,
smiling
with
pleasure
:
not
the
sad
memories
of
old
age
,
but
poetic
,
youthful
ones
--
those
impressions
of
one
's
most
distant
past
in
which
dreams
and
realities
blend
--
and
they
laughed
with
quiet
enjoyment
.
Sónya
,
as
always
,
did
not
quite
keep
pace
with
them
,
though
they
shared
the
same
reminiscences
.
Much
that
they
remembered
had
slipped
from
her
mind
,
and
what
she
recalled
did
not
arouse
the
same
poetic
feeling
as
they
experienced
.
She
simply
enjoyed
their
pleasure
and
tried
to
fit
in
with
it
.
She
only
really
took
part
when
they
recalled
Sónya
's
first
arrival
.
She
told
them
how
afraid
she
had
been
of
Nicholas
because
he
had
on
a
corded
jacket
and
her
nurse
had
told
her
that
she
,
too
,
would
be
sewn
up
with
cords
.
"
And
I
remember
their
telling
me
that
you
had
been
born
under
a
cabbage
,
"
said
Natásha
,
"
and
I
remember
that
I
dared
not
disbelieve
it
then
,
but
knew
that
it
was
not
true
,
and
I
felt
so
uncomfortable
.
"
