She clutched his arms above the elbow and looked intently into his face.

There was terror in her expression.
"Milovzors! Milovzors!" Semyon Yakovlevitch repeated again.
She dragged Mavriky Nikolaevitch back to the other part of the room at last.

There was some commotion in all our company.

The lady from our carriage, probably intending to relieve the situation, loudly and shrilly asked the saint for the third time, with an affected smile: "Well, Semyon Yakovlevitch, won't you utter some saying for me?
I've been reckoning so much on you." "Out with the----, out with the----," said Semyon Yakovlevitch, suddenly addressing her, with an extremely indecent word.

The words were uttered savagely, and with horrifying distinctness.