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Darya Alexandrovna, in a dressing jacket, and with her now

scanty, once luxuriant and beautiful hair fastened up with

hairpins on the nape of her neck, with a sunken, thin face and

large, startled eyes, which looked prominent from the thinness of

her face, was standing among a litter of all sorts of things

scattered all over the room, before an open bureau, from which

she was taking something. Hearing her husband's steps, she

stopped, looking towards the door, and trying assiduously to give

her features a severe and contemptuous expression. She felt she

was afraid of him, and afraid of the coming interview.