And her walk, too, was queer.

Natalya moved about the spacious room slowly and carefully, as if something invisible restrained the freedom of her movements.

Their house was filled with heavy and coarsely boastful luxury; everything there was resplendent, screaming of the proprietor's wealth, but the Cossack-wife walked past the costly furniture and the silverware in a shy and somewhat frightened manner, as though fearing lest they might seize and choke her.
Evidently, the noisy life of the big commercial town did not interest this silent woman, and whenever she went out driving with her husband, her eyes were fixed on the back of the driver.

When her husband took her visiting she went and behaved there just as queerly as at home; when guests came to her house, she zealously served them refreshments, taking no interest whatever in what was said, and showing preference toward none.

Only Mayakin, a witty, droll man, at times called forth on her face a smile, as vague as a shadow.