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What is it? asked Natasha. The counts books. Leave it. Vassilitch will put it away. Thats not necessary. The covered gig was full of people; they were only in doubt where Pyotr Ilyitch was to sit. Hell go on the box. Youll go on the box, wont you, Petya? cried Natasha. Sonya, too, worked with unflagging zeal; but the aim of her exertions was the opposite of Natashas. She saw to the storing away of all that was left behind, made a list of them at the countesss desire, and tried to get as much as possible taken with them. |
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