Maslova got the money, which she had also hidden in a roll, and
passed the coupon to Korableva. Korableva accepted it, though she
could not read, trusting to Khoroshavka, who knew everything, and
who said that the slip of paper was worth 2 roubles 50 copecks,
then climbed up to the ventilator, where she had hidden a small
flask of vodka. Seeing this, the women whose places were further
off went away. Meanwhile Maslova shook the dust out of her cloak
and kerchief, got up on the bedstead, and began eating a roll.
"I kept your tea for you," said Theodosia, getting down from the
shelf a mug and a tin teapot wrapped in a rag, "but I'm afraid it
is quite cold." The liquid was quite cold and tasted more of tin
than of tea, yet Maslova filled the mug and began drinking it
with her roll. "Finashka, here you are," she said, breaking off a
bit of the roll and giving it to the boy, who stood looking at
her mouth.
Meanwhile Korableva handed the flask of vodka and a mug to
Maslova, who offered some to her and to Khoroshavka. These
prisoners were considered the aristocracy of the cell because
they had some money, and shared what they possessed with the
others.
In a few moments Maslova brightened up and related merrily what
had happened at the court, and what had struck her most, i.e.,
how all the men had followed her wherever she went. In the court
they all looked at her, she said, and kept coming into the
prisoners' room while she was there.
"One of the soldiers even says, 'It's all to look at you that
they come.' One would come in, 'Where is such a paper?' or
something, but I see it is not the paper he wants; he just
devours me with his eyes," she said, shaking her head. "Regular
artists."
"Yes, that's so," said the watchman's wife, and ran on in her
musical strain, "they're like flies after sugar."
"And here, too," Maslova interrupted her, "the same thing. They
can do without anything else. But the likes of them will go
without bread sooner than miss that! Hardly had they brought me
back when in comes a gang from the railway. They pestered me so,
I did not know how to rid myself of them. Thanks to the
assistant, he turned them off. One bothered so, I hardly got
away."
"What's he like?" asked Khoroshevka.
"Dark, with moustaches."
"It must be him."
"Him--who?"
"Why, Schegloff; him as has just gone by."
"What's he, this Schegloff?"
"What, she don't know Schegloff? Why, he ran twice from Siberia.
Now they've got him, but he'll run away. The warders themselves
are afraid of him," said Khoroshavka, who managed to exchange
notes with the male prisoners and knew all that went on in the
prison. "He'll run away, that's flat."