Her name was Natalya.

Tall, well-built, with large blue eyes and with a long chestnut braid, she was a worthy match for the handsome Ignat.

He was happy and proud of his wife and loved her with the passionate love of a healthy man, but he soon began to contemplate her thoughtfully, with a vigilant eye.
Seldom did a smile cross the oval, demure face of his wife--she was always thinking of something foreign to life, and in her calm blue eyes something dark and misanthropic was flashing at times.

Whenever she was free from household duties she seated herself in the most spacious room by the window, and sat there silently for two or three hours.

Her face was turned toward the street, but the look of her eyes was so indifferent to everything that lived and moved there beyond the window, and at the same time it was so fixedly deep, as though she were looking into her very soul.