in bast shoes, pressing his flushed face to the net,
evidently with difficulty suppressing his tears. He was talking to a
pretty, light-haired prisoner who gazed at him with her bright, blue
eyes. This was Theodosia, with her husband. Beside them stood a tramp,
who was talking to a disheveled, broad-faced woman. Further on there
were two women, a man, and again a woman, and opposite each was a
prisoner. Maslova was not among them. But behind the prisoners stood
another woman. Nekhludoff felt the beating of his heart increasing and
his breath failing him. The decisive moment was approaching. He neared
the net and recognized Katiousha. She stood behind the blue-eyed
Theodosia, and, smiling, listened to her conversation. She did not
wear the prison coat, but a white waist, tightly belted, and rising
high above the breast. As in the court, her black hair hung in curls
over her 'kerchiefed forehead.

"It will all be over in a moment," he thought. "Shall I address her,
or shall I wait till she addresses me?"

But she did not address him. She was waiting for Clara, and never
thought that that man came to see her.

"Whom do you wish to see?" the matron asked Nekhludoff, approaching
him.

"Katherine Maslova," he stammered.

"Maslova, you are wanted," shouted the matron.

Maslova turned round, raised her head, and with the familiar
expression of submissiveness, came to the net. She did not recognize
Nekhludoff, and gazed at him in surprise. However, judging by his
dress that he was a rich man, she smiled.

"What are you?" she asked, pressing her smiling face with squinting
eyes against the net.

"I wish to see--" He did not know whether to use the respectful "you"
or the endearing "thou," and decided on the former. He spoke no louder
than usual. "I wish to see you--I----"

"Don't give me any of your song and dance----" the tramp beside him
shouted. "Did you take it, or did you not?"

"She is dying; she is very weak," some one shouted on the other side.

Maslova could not hear Nekhludoff, but the expression of his face, as
she spoke, suddenly reminded her of that which she did not wish to
think of. The smile disappeared from her face, and a wrinkle on her
brow evidenced her suffering.

"I cannot hear what you are saying," she shouted, blinking and still
more knitting her brows.

"I came----"

"Yes, I am doing my duty; I am repenting," thought Nekhludoff, and
immediately tears filled his eyes, and he felt a choki