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.