Mr. Tchertop-hanov's dwelling presented a very cheerless aspect; the
beams were blackened and bulging forward, the chimney had fallen off,
the corners of the house were stained with damp, and sunk out of the
perpendicular, the small, dusty, bluish windows peeped out from under
the shaggy overhanging roof with an indescribably morose expression:
some old vagrants have eyes that look like that. I knocked; no one
responded. I could hear, however, through the door some sharply uttered
words:
'A, B, C; there now, idiot!' a hoarse voice was saying: 'A, B, C, D...
no! D, E, E, E!... Now then, idiot!'