xcellent man, and I
think----"

Here she interrupted him, as if she were afraid that he would speak
too much, or she would not say everything.

"You will forgive me for doing that which you did not wish. You, too,
must love."

She said the very thing that he had just said to himself.

But now he was no longer thinking so, but felt altogether different.
He felt not only shame, but pity.

"Is it possible that all is at an end between us?" he said.

"Yes, it looks like it," she answered, with a strange smile.

"But nevertheless I would like to be useful to you."

"To us," she said, glancing at Nekhludoff. "We don't need anything. I
am very much obliged to you. If it were not for you"--she wished to
say something, but her voice began to tremble.

"I don't know which of us is under greater obligation to the other.
God will settle our accounts," said Nekhludoff.

"Yes, God will settle them," she whispered.

"Are you ready?" asked the Englishman.

"Directly," answered Nekhludoff, and then he inquired of her what she
knew of Kryltzoff.

She quieted down and calmly told him:

"Kryltzoff became very weak on the road and was taken to the hospital.
Maria Pablovna wanted to become a nurse, but there is no answer yet."

"Well, may I go?" she asked, noticing the Englishman who was waiting
for him.

"I am not yet taking leave of you," said Nekhludoff, holding out his
hand to her.

"Pardon me," she said in a low tone.

Their eyes met, and in that strange, stern look, and in that pitiful
smile, with which she said not "good-by," but "pardon me," Nekhludoff
understood, that of the two suppositions concerning her decision the
latter was the right one. She still loved him and thought she would
mar his life by a union with him, and would free him by living with
Simonson.

She pressed his hand, turned quickly, and left the room.

CHAPTER IX.

Passing through the hall and the ill-smelling corridors, the
superintendent passed into the first building of the prison in which
those condemned to hard labor were confined. Entering the first room
in that building they found the prisoners stretched on their berths,
which occupied the middle of the room. Hearing the visitors enter they
all jumped down, and, clinking their chains, placed themselves beside
their berths, while their half-shaven heads were distinctly set off
against the gloom of the prison. Only two of the prisoners remained at
their places. One of them