It came nearer.

Suddenly it died away under the window, as if it had entered into the wood of the wall.

The noise of feet was heard on the porch.

The mother started, and rose with a strained, frightened look in her eyes.
The door opened.

At first a head with a big, shaggy hat thrust itself into the room; then a slender, bending body crawled in, straightened itself out, and deliberately raised its right hand.
"Good evening!" said the man, in a thick, bass voice, breathing heavily.
The mother bowed in silence.
"Pavel is not at home yet ?" The stranger leisurely removed his short fur jacket, raised one foot, whipped the snow from his boot with his hat, then did the same with the other foot, flung his hat into a corner, and rocking on his thin legs walked into the room, looking back at the imprints he left on the floor.