1 The elders began talking about Bonaparte.
2 She took out her handkerchief and began to cry.
3 and the count began bustling to get out his pocketbook.
4 The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the money.
5 As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain.
6 The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the murder of the Duc d'Enghien.
7 Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming soiree, the guests began to take their leave.
8 Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and, bending his face close to her, began to whisper something.
9 And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.
10 With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe's plan chimerical.
11 And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia.
12 Then one of those conversations began which last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of dresses and say, "I am so delighted."
13 Pierre saw that Boris wished to change the subject, and being of the same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages of the Boulogne expedition.
14 "Annette, for heaven's sake don't refuse me," the countess began, with a blush that looked very strange on her thin, dignified, elderly face, and she took the money from under the handkerchief.
15 "Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess.
16 Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table.
17 For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he jumped up from the sofa, seized Boris under the elbow in his quick, clumsy way, and, blushing far more than Boris, began to speak with a feeling of mingled shame and vexation.
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