From day to day he became more and more entangled.

It seemed to her mother and Sonya that Natasha was in love with Boris as of old.

She sang him his favorite songs, showed him her album, making him write in it, did not allow him to allude to the past, letting it be understood how delightful was the present; and every day he went away in a fog, without having said what he meant to, and not knowing what he was doing or why he came, or how it would all end.