As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain.

One hand moved as if to clutch the window sill, but refrained from touching it.

Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never open them again.

Suddenly he was aware of a stir all around.
He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on the window sill, with a pale but radiant face.
"It's empty." He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly.

Dolokhov jumped down.