" Konstantin Levin looked in at the door, and saw that the speaker was a young man with an immense shock of hair, wearing a Russian jerkin, and that a pockmarked woman in a woolen gown, without collar or cuffs, was sitting on the sofa.
His brother was not to be seen.
Konstantin felt a sharp pang at his heart at the thought of the strange company in which his brother spent his life.
No one had heard him, and Konstantin, taking off his galoshes, listened to what the gentleman in the jerkin was saying.