four o’clock
He kept very still on the sofa , but a murmur escaped him -- `` He had a belief in a future existence . '' Councillor Mikulin shrugged his shoulders slightly , and Razumov got up with an effort . There was nothing now to stay for in that room . Haldin had been hanged at four o'clock . There could be no doubt of that . He had , it seemed , entered upon his future existence , long boots , Astrakhan fur cap and all , down to the very leather strap round his waist . A flickering , vanishing sort of existence .