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As soon as the tin bell tinkled, Raskolnikov seemed to be aware

of something moving in the room. For some seconds he listened

quite seriously. The unknown rang again, waited and suddenly

tugged violently and impatiently at the handle of the door.

Raskolnikov gazed in horror at the hook shaking in its fastening,

and in blank terror expected every minute that the fastening

would be pulled out. It certainly did seem possible, so violently

was he shaking it. He was tempted to hold the fastening, but he

might be aware of it. A giddiness came over him again. "I shall

fall down!" flashed through his mind, but the unknown began to

speak and he recovered himself at once.

"What's up? Are they asleep or murdered? D-damn them!" he bawled

in a thick voice, "Hey, Alyona Ivanovna, old witch! Lizaveta

Ivanovna, hey, my beauty! open the door! Oh, damn them! Are they

asleep or what?"