Escaping for a few minutes before Natasha would sing, Natasha and Prince Andrei moved to a large windowed balcony that overlooked Tverskaya Street, where they had only earlier stepped from their calèche. Alone together for a moment, they each thought the skies and domes of Moscow to be so beautiful that neither Prince Andrei nor Natasha spoke. In the distance, low over the sleeping city, was an odd-shaped moon that was not a circle and not a crescent but some shape they could not name.