I may take it for granted that it never has occurred to you that the nurse Masha, hired by you to look after the insane, is herself insane? But such is the fact.
Observe her walk, noiseless, gliding, somewhat timid and astonishingly guarded and graceful—it is as if she were walking between invisible, drawn swords. Examine her face well, when she is not observing and is unaware of your presence. When Masha sees one of you approach her face assumes a serious, grave aspect, and smiles indulgently—the very same expression which dominates your face at the moment. The explanation is that Masha possesses the strange and significant faculty of reflecting involuntarily in her face the expression of other faces. Occasionally she will look at me and smile. It is a pale, reflected smile—not her own. And I surmise that I must have smiled when she looked at me. At times Masha's countenance will express suffering, will seem morose, her brows will contract at the nose, the corners of the mouth
