The story was interrupted by the entrance of Maslova, who was

accompanied by a jailer.

Nekhludoff saw her through the doorway before she had noticed the

inspector. She was following the warder briskly, smiling and

tossing her head. When she saw the inspector she suddenly

changed, and gazed at him with a frightened look; but, quickly

recovering, she addressed Nekhludoff boldly and gaily.

"How d'you do?" she said, drawling out her words, and

smilingly took his hand and shook it vigorously, not

like the first time.

"Here, I've brought you a petition to sign," said Nekhludoff,

rather surprised by the boldness with which she greeted him

to-day.

"The advocate has written out a petition which you will have to

sign, and then we shall send it to Petersburg."

"All right! That can be done. Anything you like," she said, with

a wink and a smile.

And Nekhludoff drew a folded paper from his pocket and went up to

the table.

"May she sign it here?" asked Nekhludoff, turning to the

inspector.

"It's all right, it's all right! Sit down. Here's a pen; you can

write?" said the inspector.

"I could at one time," she said; and, after arranging her skirt

and the sleeves of her jacket, she sat down at the table, smiled

awkwardly, took the pen with her small, energetic hand, and

glanced at Nekhludoff with a laugh.

Nekhludoff told her what to write and pointed out the place where

to sign.

Sighing deeply as she dipped her pen into the ink, and carefully

shaking some drops off the pen, she wrote her name.

"Is it all?" she asked, looking from Nekhludoff to the inspector,

and putting the pen now on the inkstand, now on the papers.

"I have a few words to tell you," Nekhludoff said, taking the pen

from her.

"All right; tell me," she said. And suddenly, as if remembering

something, or feeling sleepy, she grew serious.

The inspector rose and left the room, and Nekhludoff remained

with her.




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