"Well, but I must do what I came here for," he said, trying to
pick up courage. "What is to be done now?" He looked round for an
official, and seeing a thin little man in the uniform of an
officer going up and down behind the people, he approached him.
"Can you tell me, sir," he said, with exceedingly strained
politeness of manner, "where the women are kept, and where one is
allowed to interview them?"
"Is it the women's ward you want to go to?"
"Yes, I should like to see one of the women prisoners,"
Nekhludoff said, with the same strained politeness.
"You should have said so when you were in the hall. Who is it,
then, that you want to see?"
"I want to see a prisoner called Katerina Maslova."
"Is she a political one?"
"No, she is simply . . ."
"What! Is she sentenced?"
"Yes; the day before yesterday she was sentenced," meekly
answered Nekhludoff, fearing to spoil the inspector's good
humour, which seemed to incline in his favour.
"If you want to go to the women's ward please to step this way,"
said the officer, having decided from Nekhludoff's appearance
that he was worthy of attention. "Sideroff, conduct the gentleman
to the women's ward," he said, turning to a moustached corporal
with medals on his breast.
"Yes, sir."
At this moment heart-rending sobs were heard coming from some one
near the net.
Everything here seemed strange to Nekhludoff; but strangest of
all was that he should have to thank and feel obligation towards
the inspector and the chief warders, the very men who were
performing the cruel deeds that were done in this house.
The corporal showed Nekhludoff through the corridor, out of the
men's into the women's interviewing-room.
This room, like that of the men, was divided by two wire nets;
but it was much smaller, and there were fewer visitors and fewer
prisoners, so that there was less shouting than in the men's
room. Yet the same thing was going on here, only, between the
nets instead of soldiers there was a woman warder, dressed in a
blue-edged uniform jacket, with gold cords on the sleeves, and a
blue belt. Here also, as in the men's room, the people were
pressing close to the wire netting on both sides; on the nearer
side, the townspeople in varied attire; on the further side, the
prisoners, some in white prison clothes, others in their own
coloured dresses. The whole length of the net was taken up by the
people standing close to it. Some rose on tiptoe to be heard
across the heads of others; some sat talking on the floor.