Natasha's face, which had been so radiantly happy all that saint's day, suddenly changed: her eyes became fixed, and then a shiver passed down her broad neck and the corners of her mouth drooped.
"Sonya! What is it? What is the matter?... Oo... Oo... Oo...!" And Natasha's large mouth widened, making her look quite ugly, and she began to wail like a baby without knowing why, except that Sonya was crying.
Sonya tried to lift her head to answer but could not, and hid her face still deeper in the bed.
Natasha wept, sitting on the blue-striped feather bed and hugging her friend.
With an effort Sonya sat up and began wiping her eyes and explaining.