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As the bearers, among whom was Anna Mikhaylovna, passed the young

man he caught a momentary glimpse between their heads and backs

of the dying man's high, stout, uncovered chest and powerful

shoulders, raised by those who were holding him under the

armpits, and of his gray, curly, leonine head. This head, with

its remarkably broad brow and cheekbones, its handsome, sensual

mouth, and its cold, majestic expression, was not disfigured by

the approach of death. It was the same as Pierre remembered it

three months before, when the count had sent him to Petersburg.

But now this head was swaying helplessly with the uneven

movements of the bearers, and the cold listless gaze fixed itself

upon nothing.