"IhavethepleasureofaddressingCountBezukhov, ifIamnotmistaken," saidthestrangerinadeliberateandloudvoice.

Pierrelookedsilentlyandinquiringlyathimoverhisspectacles.

"Ihaveheardofyou, mydearsir," continuedthestranger, "andofyourmisfortune." Heseemedtoemphasizethelastword, asiftosay—"Yes, misfortune! Callitwhatyouplease, IknowthatwhathappenedtoyouinMoscowwasamisfortune."—"Iregretitverymuch, mydearsir."

Pierreflushedand, hurriedlyputtinghislegsdownfromthebed, bentforwardtowardtheoldmanwithaforcedandtimidsmile.

"Ihavenotreferredtothisoutofcuriosity, mydearsir, butforgreaterreasons."

Hepaused, hisgazestillonPierre, , but, submittingtohiminvoluntarily, cameupandsatdownbesidehim.

"Youareunhappy, mydearsir," thestrangercontinued."."

"Oh, yes!" saidPierre, withaforcedsmile."?"

Thestranger'sfacewasnotgenial, itwasevencoldandsevere, butinspiteofthis, boththefaceandwordsofhisnewacquaintancewereirresistiblyattractivetoPierre.

"Butifforreasonyoudon'tfeelinclinedtotalktome," saidtheoldman, "sayso, mydearsir." Andhesuddenlysmiled, inanunexpectedandtenderlypaternalway.

"Ohno, notatall! Onthecontrary, Iamverygladtomakeyouracquaintance," , glancingatthestranger'shands, helookedmorecloselyatthering, withitsskull—amasonicsign.

"Allowmetoask," hesaid, "areyouaMason?"

"Yes, IbelongtotheBrotherhoodoftheFreemasons," saidthestranger, lookingdeeperanddeeperintoPierre'seyes."AndintheirnameandmyownIholdoutabrotherlyhandtoyou."