with. It was
awakened by the extraordinary event of the 28th of April, in court,
where I sat as jurymen. I saw her, Katiousha, whom I had deceived, on
the prisoners' bench, in a prison coat. Through a strange
misunderstanding and my mistake, she was sentenced to penal servitude.
I have just returned from the prosecutor and the prison. I was not
permitted to see her, but I am determined to do anything to see her,
acknowledge my guilt and make reparation even by marrying her. Lord,
help me! My soul is rejoicing."

CHAPTER XXXVII.

For a long time that night Maslova lay awake with open eyes, and,
looking at the door, mused.

She was thinking that under no circumstances would she marry a convict
on the island of Saghalin, but would settle down some other way--with
some inspector, or clerk, or even the warden, or an assistant. They
are all eager for such a thing. "Only I must not get thin. Otherwise I
am done for." And she recalled how she was looked at by her lawyer,
the justiciary--in fact, everybody in the court-room. She recalled how
Bertha, who visited her in prison, told her that the student, whom she
loved while she was an inmate at Kitaeva's, inquired about her and
expressed his regrets when told of her condition. She recalled the
fight with the red-haired woman, and pitied her. She called to mind
the baker who sent her an extra lunch roll, and many others, but not
Nekhludoff. Of her childhood and youth, and especially of her love for
Nekhludoff, she never thought. That was too painful. These
recollections were hidden deeply in her soul. She never saw Nekhludoff
even in a dream. She failed to recognize him in court, not so much
because when she last saw him he was an army officer, beardless, with
small mustache and thick, short hair, while now he was no longer young
in appearance, and wore a beard, but more because she never thought of
him. She had buried all recollections of her past relations with him
in that terrible dark night when, on his return from the army, he
visited his aunts.

Up to that night, while she hoped for his return, the child which she
bore under her heart was not irksome to her. But from that night
forward everything changed, and the coming child was only a hindrance.

The aunts had asked Nekhludoff to stop off at their station and call
on them, but he wired that he would not be able to do it, as he had to
reach St. Petersburg in time. When Katiousha learned this, she decided
to g