I couldn't see his eyes. I could tell he was tired. He always was tired. No matter what .He was exhausted. He was fighting himself not to fall asleep . The ivory light of the lamps triggered the wrinkles to move on his face. Like little spiders on the autumn web. His nose was pretty shiny though. He smelled like a comphorball and it told me a lot about him. They dont sell that stuff anymore in Russia.