They were all in a perpetual hurry.

All of them--the mocking and the serious, the frank, jovial youth with effervescing strength, the thoughtful and quiet--all of them in the eyes of the mother were identical in the persistent faith that characterized them; and although each had his own peculiar cast of countenance, for her all their faces blended into one thin, composed, resolute face with a profound expression in its dark eyes, kind yet stern, like the look in Christ's eyes on his way to Emmaus.
The mother counted them, and mentally gathered them together into a group around Pavel.

In that throng he became invisible to the eyes of the enemy.
One day a vivacious, curly-haired girl appeared from the city, bringing some parcel for Andrey; and on leaving she said to Vlasova, with a gleam in her merry eyes: "Good-by, comrade!" "Good-by!" the mother answered, restraining a smile.

After seeing the girl to the door, she walked to the window and, smiling, looked out on the street to watch her comrade as she trotted away, nimbly raising and dropping her little feet, fresh as a spring flower and light as a butterfly.
"Comrade!" said the mother when her guest had disappeared from her view.

"Oh, you dear! God grant you a comrade for all your life!" She often noticed in all the people from the city a certain childishness, for which she had the indulgent smile of an elderly person; but at the same time she was touched and joyously surprised by their faith, the profundity of which she began to realize more and more clearly.