Pierre smiled an absent-minded smile, obviously not grasping what was said to him. “Yes, I’m very glad,” he said.
“How can people be discontented at anything!” thought Natasha. “Especially any one as nice as Bezuhov.”
In Natasha’s eyes all the people at the ball were particularly kind, sweet, good people, loving one another; none were capable of wronging one another, and so all must be happy.