behind
the gate, notwithstanding the pure white layer of snow which had
covered everything--the sidewalk, the roof and the walls--made a
gloomy impression. The proud looking superintendent, walking out to
the gate and glancing at Nekhludoff's pass in the light of the
lantern, shrugged his broad shoulders, but obeyed the order and
invited the visitors to follow him. He first led them to the yard, and
then to a door on the right hand and up the stairs leading to the
office. Offering them seats, he asked them in what way he could serve
them, and learning from Nekhludoff that he wished to see Maslova, he
sent the jailer for her and prepared himself to answer the questions
which the Englishman wished to ask him, before going to the cell.

Nekhludoff translated the Englishman's questions. While they were
conversing they heard approaching footsteps, the door opened and the
jailer entered, followed by Katiousha in her prison garb, with a scarf
tied around her head.

Nekhludoff rose and made a few steps toward her. She said nothing, but
her excited expression surprised him. Her face was lit up with a
wonderful decision. He had never seen her look like that. Now the
blood rushed to her face, and now she turned pale; now her fingers
twisted convulsively the edges of her jacket, now she looked at him,
and now she dropped her eyes.

"You know what I called you for?" asked Nekhludoff.

"Yes, he told me. But now I am decided. I will ask permission to go
with Vladimir Ivanovitch." She said this quickly, as if she had made
up her mind before what to say.

"How with Vladimir Ivanovitch?" asked Nekhludoff. But she interrupted
him.

"But if he wants me to live with him?" Here she stopped in fear, and
added, "I mean to stay with him. I could expect nothing better, and
perhaps I may be useful to him and others. What difference does it
make to me?"

One of the two things had happened--either she had fallen in love
with Simonson and did not wish his sacrifice, which weighed so heavily
on him, or she was still in love with Nekhludoff and renounced him for
his own good, burning all bridges behind her, and throwing her
fortunes in the same scale with those of Simonson. Nekhludoff
understood it, and felt ashamed.

"If you are in love with him," he said.

"I never knew such people, you know. It is impossible not to love
them. And Vladimir is entirely unlike any person I have ever known."

"Yes, certainly," said Nekhludoff. "He is an e