The others went in a body into the dirty corridor, and amongst the others I saw, to my amazement, Lizaveta Nikolaevna.

The door of the room was open, and they did not, of course, dare to prevent our going in to look at the suicide.

He was quite a young lad, not more than nineteen.

He must have been very good-looking, with thick fair hair, with a regular oval face, and a fine, pure forehead.

The body was already stiff, and his white young face looked like marble.