Now both legs were hanging outside and he had only to let go of what he was holding on to—and he was saved. Before letting go he looked down. Some kind of hasty preparations were under way there: the window reflections gathered together and leveled themselves out, the whole chasm was seen to divide into dark and pale squares, and at the instant when Luzhin unclenched his hand, at the instant when icy air gushed unto his mouth, he saw exactly what kind of eternity was obligingly and inexorably spread out before him. The door was burst in. "Aleksandr Ivanovich, Aleksandr Ivanovich," roared several voices. But there was no Aleksandr Ivanovich.