Toward midnight, after he had left the countess' apartments, he was sitting upstairs in a shabby dressing gown, copying out the original transaction of the Scottish lodge of Freemasons at a table in his low room cloudy with tobacco smoke, when someone came in.
It was Prince Andrew.
"Ah, it's you!" said Pierre with a preoccupied, dissatisfied air.
"And I, you see, am hard at it.