And now the strange and beautiful sky could be seen through an upper window which was dust-covered and unwashed since the last summer.

At first sight the sky seemed to be milky-gray-smoke-colored--but when you looked longer the dark blue color began to penetrate through the shade, grew into an ever deeper blue--ever brighter, ever more intense.

And the fact that it did not reveal itself all at once, but hid itself chastely in the smoke of transparent clouds, made it as charming as the girl you love.

And Sergey Golovin looked at the sky, tugged at his beard, blinked now one eye, now the other, with its long, curved lashes, earnestly pondering over something.

Once he began to move his fingers rapidly and thoughtlessly, knitted his brow in some joy, but then he glanced about and his joy died out like a spark which is stepped upon.