Every detail of that room will remain in my heart and brain until I die.

Marie Ivanovna, looking very white and cool, with the happiness shining in her large clear eyes, sat on an old worn sofa near the window.

In the glass of the window there were bullet holes, and beyond the window a piece of blazing golden garden.

The room was very dirty, dust lay thick upon everything.

Some one had eaten a meal there, and there was a plate, a knife, also egg-shells, an empty sardine-tin, and a hunk of black bread.