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The general's face clouded, his lips quivered and trembled. He

took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil,

tore out the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the

window, and threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the

room as if asking, "Why do they look at me?" Then he lifted his

head, stretched his neck as if he intended to say something, but

immediately, with affected indifference, began to hum to himself,

producing a queer sound which immediately broke off. The door of

the private room opened and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway. The

general with the bandaged head bent forward as though running

away from some danger, and, making long, quick strides with his

thin legs, went up to Kutuzov.

"Vous voyez le malheureux Mack," he uttered in a broken voice.