" Oh God! Is everyone all right?" he thought, stopping for a moment with a sinking heart, and then immediately starting to run along the hall and up the warped steps of the familiar staircase.

The well-known old door handle, which always angered the countess when it was not properly cleaned, turned as loosely as ever.

A solitary tallow candle burned in the anteroom.

Old Michael was asleep on the chest.

Prokofy, the footman, who was so strong that he could lift the back of the carriage from behind, sat plaiting slippers out of cloth selvedges.