Nadejda Nicolaievna by Vsevolod Garshin

The same day in the evening I moved Simon Ivanovich to my room. He lived in the Sadovaia Street, in a huge house filled from top to bottom with people, and occupying almost an entire block between three streets. The most aristocratic part of the house faced the Sadovaia, and was taken up with furnished rooms in the possession of a retired Captain Grum-Skjebitski, who rented out his quite large, but somewhat dirty, rooms to budding artists, the wealthier class of students and musicians. These formed the preponderating element of those lodging with the stern Captain, who was severely solicitous for the good name of what he called his "hotel."

I went up the iron staircase and entered the passage. From the first door came fleeting passages by a violin; a little farther on a cello was booming away; at the end of the corridor a piano was thundering. I knocked at Helfreich's door.