At the corner of the pavement, in a short, stylish overcoat and a low-crowned fashionable hat, jauntily askew, with a smile that showed a gleam of white teeth and red lips, stood Stepan Arkadyevitch, radiant, young, and beaming.
He called him vigorously and urgently, and insisted on his stopping.
He had one arm on the window of a carriage that was stopping at the corner, and out of the window were thrust the heads of a lady in a velvet hat, and two children.
Stepan Arkadyevitch was smiling and beckoning to his brother-in-law.
The lady smiled a kindly smile too, and she too waved her hand to Alexey Alexandrovitch.