His mouth was set severely, his legs apart, his hands at his sides.
"A terrible misfortune," I heard the stout doctor say.
Semyonov looked at him gravely.
"Thank you very much for your kindness," he said courteously.

Then, by a common instinct, without any spoken word between us, we all went from the room, leaving Semyonov alone there.
I remember very little of our return to Mittoevo.

We borrowed a cart upon which we laid the body.

I sat in the trap with Semyonov.

I was, I remember, afraid lest he should suddenly go off his head.