'Matthew, my sister Anna Arkadyevna is coming to-morrow,' he said, motioning away for a moment the shiny plump hand of the barber, which was shaving a rosy path between his long curly whiskers.
— Matvej, mia sorella Anna Arkad’evna viene domani — disse, arrestando per un attimo la mano lustra e grassoccia del barbiere che andava tracciando una via rosea tra le lunghe fedine ricciute.