He looked past me and, if one had not seen the live agony of his eyes, one would have thought that he was absorbed in watching something that was so distant that he must concentrate all his attention upon it.
I got upon my feet and as my eyes met his I knew without any question at all that Marie Ivanovna was dead.
When I had risen we stood for a moment facing one another, then without a word he turned towards the house.

I followed him, leaving my book upon the grass.

He walking slowly in front of me with his usual assured step, except that once he walked into a bush that was to his right; he afterwards came away from it, as a man walking in his sleep might do, without lowering his eyes to look at it.

We entered by a side-door.

I, myself, had no thoughts at all at this time.