Book Twelve (1812) — Chapter 5

Nicholas continues at the provincial ball, paying his particular attention to the wife of a local official and making mythological compliments in the way of young men who are comfortable and temporarily happy. His aunt — the Melyukovs' aunt — appears and presses him to consider Princess Mary. Nicholas brushes the suggestion off with a laugh. He is not thinking about Princess Mary or the war or Moscow. He kisses his aunt's plump little hand. The chapter is all surface — which is Tolstoy's point: surfaces are where life is actually lived, and Nicholas is living.