Denisov sat gloomily biting his mustache and listening to the conversation, evidently with no wish to take part in it.
Having done that, the officer, lifting his elbow with a smart gesture, stroked his mustache and lightly touched his hat.
Jonathan was dressed in a dark suit and had a mustache and goatee.
The lower jaw of an old Frenchman with a thick mustache trembled as he untied the ropes.
He slipped his arms under the cloak that covered her head, embraced her, pressed her to him, and kissed her on the lips that wore a mustache and had a smell of burnt cork.
As he removed the beginnings of a mustache from his upper lip, he glanced at her in the mirror and grinned.
His eyes shone and his mustache twitched as if he were smiling to himself at some amusing thought.
In one thin, translucently white hand he held a handkerchief, while with the other he stroked the delicate mustache he had grown, moving his fingers slowly.
This inevitability alone can explain how the cruel Arakcheev, who tore out a grenadier's mustache with his own hands, whose weak nerves rendered him unable to face danger, and who was neither an educated man nor a courtier, was able to maintain his powerful position with Alexander, whose own character was chivalrous, noble, and gentle.
Oh, how strange you are with that mustache and those eyebrows!...