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saw an hussar of the line recounting his military exploits 

(Prince Andrew could not endure that sort of man), he 

gave Boris a pleasant smile, frowned as with half-closed 

eyes he looked at Rostov, bowed slightly and wearily, and 

sat down languidly on the sofa: he felt it unpleasant to 

have dropped in on bad company. Rostov flushed up on 

noticing this, but he did not care, this was a mere stranger. 

Glancing, however, at Boris, he saw that he too seemed 

ashamed of the hussar of the line. 

In spite of Prince Andrew’s disagreeable, ironical tone, 

in spite of the contempt with which Rostov, from his 

fighting army point of view, regarded all these little 

adjutants on the staff of whom the newcomer was 

evidently one, Rostov felt confused, blushed, and became 

silent. Boris inquired what news there might be on the 

staff, and what, without indiscretion, one might ask about 

our plans. 

‘We shall probably advance,’ replied Bolkonski, 

evidently reluctant to say more in the presence of a 

stranger. 

Berg took the opportunity to ask, with great politeness, 

whether, as was rumored, the allowance of forage money 

to captains of companies would be doubled. To this 

Prince Andrew answered with a smile that he could give 

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no opinion on such an important government order, and 

Berg laughed gaily. 

‘As to your business,’ Prince Andrew continued, 

addressing Boris, ‘we will talk of it later’ (and he looked 

round at Rostov). ‘Come to me after the review and we 

will do what is possible.’ 

And, having glanced round the room, Prince Andrew 

turned to Rostov, whose state of unconquerable childish 

embarrassment now changing to anger he did not 

condescend to notice, and said: ‘I think you were talking 

of the Schon Grabern affair? Were you there?’ 

‘I was there,’ said Rostov angrily, as if intending to 

insult the aide-de-camp. 

Bolkonski noticed the hussar’s state of mind, and it 

amused him. With a slightly contemptuous smile, he said: 

‘Yes, there are many stories now told about that affair!’ 

‘Yes, stories!’ repeated Rostov loudly, looking with 

eyes suddenly grown furious, now at Boris, now at 

Bolkonski. ‘Yes, many stories! But our stories are the 

stories of men who have been under the enemy’s fire! Our 

stories have some weight, not like the stories of those 

fellows on the staff who get rewards without doing 

anything!’ 

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‘Of whom you imagine me to be one?’ said Prince 

Andrew, with a quiet and particularly amiable smile. 

A strange feeling of exasperation and yet of respect for 

this man’s self-possession mingled at that moment in 

Rostov’s soul. 

‘I am not talking about you,’ he said, ‘I don’t know 

you and, frankly, I don’t want to. I am speaking of the 

staff in general.’ 

‘And I will tell you this,’ Prince Andrew interrupted in 

a tone of quiet authority, ‘you wish to insult me, and I am 

ready to agree with you that it would be very easy to do 

so if you haven’t sufficient self-respect, but admit that the 

time and place are very badly chosen. In a day or two we 

shall all have to take part in a greater and more serious 

duel, and besides, Drubetskoy, who says he is an old 

friend of yours, is not at all to blame that my face has the 

misfortune to displease you. However,’ he added rising, 

‘you know my name and where to find me, but don’t 

forget that I do not regard either myself or you as having 

been at all insulted, and as a man older than you, my 

advice is to let the matter drop. Well then, on Friday after 

the review I shall expect you, Drubetskoy. Au revoir!’ 

exclaimed Prince Andrew, and with a bow to them both 

he went out. 

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Only when Prince Andrew was gone did Rostov think 

of what he ought to have said. And he was still more 

angry at having omitted to say it. He ordered his horse at 

once and, coldly taking leave of Boris, rode home. Should 

he go to headquarters next day and challenge that affected 

adjutant, or really let the matter drop, was the question 

that worried him all the way. He thought angrily of the 

pleasure he would have at seeing the fright of that small 

and frail but proud man when covered by his pistol, and 

then he felt with surprise that of all the men he knew there 

was none he would so much like to have for a friend as 

that very adjutant whom he so hated. 

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