 War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy Part 1 CHAPTER I Well, Prince, Genoa and Luka now know more than private estates of the Bonaparte family. No, I warn you, that if you do not tell me we are at war, if you again allow yourself to palliate all the infamies and atrocities of this Antichrist, upon my word I believe he is. I do not know you in future, you are no longer my friend, no longer my faithful slave, as you say. There, how do you do? How do you do? I see I am scaring you. Sit down and talk to me." These words were uttered in July 1805 by Anna Pavlovna Sherer, a distinguished lady of the court, and confidential maid of honour to the Empress Maria Fyodorovna. It was her greeting to Prince Vassily, a man high in rank and office, who was the first to arrive at her soiree. Anna Pavlovna had been coughing for the last few days. She had an attack of la grip, as she said. Grip was then a new word only used by a few people. In the notes she had sent round in the morning by a footman in red livery, she had written to all indiscriminately. If you have nothing better to do, count, or Prince, and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too alarming to, I shall be charmed to see what my house between seven and ten, Annette Sherer. Heavens, what a violent outburst! The Prince responded, not in the least, disconcerted at such a reception. He was wearing an embroidered court uniform, stockings and slippers, and had stars on his breast, and a bright smile on his flat face. He spoke in that elaborately choice French, in which our forefathers not only spoke but thought, and with those slow patronising internations peculiar to a man of importance who had grown old in court society. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting her with a view of his perfumed, shining bald head, and complacently settled himself on the sofa. First of all, tell me how you are, dear friend. Relieve a friend's anxiety, he said, with no change of his voice and tone, in which indifference and even irony was perceptible through the veil of courtesy and sympathy. How can one be well when one is in moral suffering? How can one help being worried in these times if one has any feeling? said Anna Pavlovna. You'll spend the whole evening with me, I hope. And the fate of the English ambassadors. Today's Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there.