tall, and had a pale and dark face, large grey eyes under arching
brows, covered with tiny freckles, a perfectly regular forehead and
nose, tightly compressed lips, and a rather sharp chin. Her hair, of a
chestnut shade, fell low on her slender neck. In her whole
personality, in the expression of her face, intent and a little
timorous, in her clear but changing glance, in her smile, which was,
as it were, intense, in her soft and uneven voice, there was something
nervous, electric, something impulsive and hurried, something, in
fact, which could never be attractive to every one, which even
repelled some.

Her hands were slender and rosy, with long fingers; her feet were
slender; she walked swiftly, almost impetuously, her figure bent a
little forward. She had grown up very strangely; first she idolised
her father, then she became passionately devoted to her mother, and
had grown cold to both of them, especially to her father. Of late
years she had behaved to her mother as to a sick grandmother; while
her father, who had been proud of her while she had been regarded as
an exceptional child, had come to be afraid of her when she was grown
up, and said of her that she was a sort of enthusiastic republican--no
one could say where she got it from. Weakness revolted her, stupidity
made her angry, and deceit she could never, never pardon. She was
exacting beyond all bounds, even her prayers had more than once been
mingled with reproaches. When once a person had lost her respect--and
she passed judgment quickly, often too quickly--he ceased to exist for
her. All impressions cut deeply into her heart; life was bitter
earnest for her.

The governess to whom Anna Vassilyevna had entrusted the finishing of
her daughter's education--an education, we may remark in parenthesis,