Staggering, the crowd walked along the rafts.

Pale and fatigued, they said to one another stupid, disconnected things.

Sasha jostled them unceremoniously, as she was getting her things together.
"Stepan! Call for the horses!" "And I'll drink some more cognac.

Who wants some more cognac with me ?" drawled the gentleman with the side whiskers in a beatific voice, holding a bottle in his hands.
Vassa was muffling Zvantzev's neck with a scarf.

He stood in front of her, frowning, dissatisfied, his lips curled capriciously, the calves of his legs shivering.