s what he pleases with us. He is
a good man himself, but his wife is Russian--and what a cur! She is
robbing the people--simply awful! But here is the prison. Shall I
drive up to the front? I think they don't admit through the front."

CHAPTER VIII.

With a faint heart and with horror at the thought that he might find
Maslova in an inebriate condition and persistently antagonistic, and
at the mystery which she was to him, Nekhludoff rang the bell and
inquired of the inspector about Maslova. She was in the hospital.

A young physician, impregnated with carbolic acid, came out into the
corridor and sternly asked Nekhludoff what he wanted. The physician
indulged the prisoners' shortcomings and often relaxed the rules in
their favor, for which he often ran afoul of the prison officials and
even the head physician. Fearing that Nekhludoff might ask something
not permitted by the rules, and, moreover, desiring to show that he
made no exceptions in favor of anybody, he feigned anger.

"There are no women here; this is the children's ward," he said.

"I know it, but there is a nurse here who had been transferred from
the prison."

"Yes, there are two. What do you wish, then?"

"I am closely related to one of them, Maslova," said Nekhludoff, "and
would like to see her. I am going to St. Petersburg to enter an appeal
in her case. I would like to hand her this; it is only a photograph,"
and he produced an envelope from his pocket.

"Yes, you may do that," said the softened physician, and turning to an
old nurse in a white apron, told her to call Maslova. "Won't you take
a seat, or come into the reception-room?"

"Thank you," said Nekhludoff, and taking advantage of the favorable
change in the physician's demeanor, asked him what they thought of
Maslova in the hospital.

"Her work is fair, considering the conditions amid which she had
lived," answered the physician. "But there she comes."

The old nurse appeared at one of the doors, and behind her came
Maslova. She wore a white apron over a striped skirt; a white cap on
her head hid her hair. Seeing Nekhludoff she flushed, stopped
waveringly, then frowned, and with downcast eyes approached him with
quick step. Coming near him she stood for a moment without offering
her hand, then she did offer her hand and became even more flushed.
Nekhludoff had not seen her since the conversation in which she
excused herself for her impetuosity, and he expected to find her in