And behind you--just turn around! There goes Sophya Pavlovna.

The town pays its respects to Ignat." At first Foma did not listen to his godfather's whisper, but when he mentioned Medinskaya, he involuntarily looked back and noticed the governor.

A little drop of something pleasant fell into his heart at the sight of this important personage, with a bright ribbon across his shoulder, with orders on his breast, pacing after the coffin, an expression of sorrow on his stern countenance.
"Blessed is the road where this soul goeth today," Yakov Tarasovich hummed softly, moving his nose, and he again whispered in his godson's ear: "Seventy-five thousand roubles is such a sum that you can demand so many escorts for it.

Have you heard that Sonka is making arrangements for the laying of the corner-stone on the fifteenth?
Just forty days after the death of your father." Foma again turned back, and his eyes met the eyes of Medinskaya.

He heaved a deep sigh at her caressing glance, and felt relieved at once, as if a warm ray of light penetrated his soul and something melted there.