The same people were still sitting here in almost the same positions as before, whispering to one another.

All became silent and turned to look at the pale tear-worn Anna Mikhaylovna as she entered, and at the big stout figure of Pierre who, hanging his head, meekly followed her.

Anna Mikhaylovna's face expressed a consciousness that the decisive moment had arrived.

With the air of a practical Petersburg lady she now, keeping Pierre close beside her, entered the room even more boldly than that afternoon.