" The strains of the polonaise, which had continued for a considerable time, had begun to sound like a sad reminiscence to Natasha's ears.

She wanted to cry.

Peronskaya had left them.

The count was at the other end of the room.

She and the countess and Sonya were standing by themselves as in the depths of a forest amid that crowd of strangers, with no one interested in them and not wanted by anyone.