Resurrection

"If he does go away you and I'll have to stay," said Korableva,

turning to Maslova, "but you'd better tell us now what the

advocate says about petitioning. Now's the time to hand it in."

Maslova answered that she knew nothing about it.

At that moment the red-haired woman came up to the "aristocracy"

with both freckled hands in her thick hair, scratching her head

with her nails.

"I'll tell you all about it, Katerina," she began. "First and

foremost, you'll have to write down you're dissatisfied with the

sentence, then give notice to the Procureur."

"What do you want here?" said Korableva angrily; "smell the

vodka, do you? Your chatter's not wanted. We know what to do

without your advice."

"No one's speaking to you; what do you stick your nose in for?"

"It's vodka you want; that's why you come wriggling yourself in

here."

"Well, offer her some," said Maslova, always ready to share

anything she possessed with anybody.

"I'll offer her something."

"Come on then," said the red-haired one, advancing towards

Korableva. "Ah! think I'm afraid of such as you?"

"Convict fright!"

"That's her as says it."

"Slut!"

"I? A slut? Convict! Murderess!" screamed the red-haired one.

"Go away, I tell you," said Korableva gloomily, but the

red-haired one came nearer and Korableva struck her in the chest.

The red-haired woman seemed only to have waited for this, and

with a sudden movement caught hold of Korableva's hair with one

hand and with the other struck her in the face. Korableva seized

this hand, and Maslova and Khoroshavka caught the red-haired

woman by her arms, trying to pull her away, but she let go the

old woman's hair with her hand only to twist it round her fist.

Korableva, with her head bent to one side, was dealing out blows

with one arm and trying to catch the red-haired woman's hand with

her teeth, while the rest of the women crowded round, screaming

and trying to separate the fighters; even the consumptive one

came up and stood coughing and watching the fight. The children

cried and huddled together. The noise brought the woman warder

and a jailer. The fighting women were separated; and Korableva,

taking out the bits of torn hair from her head, and the

red-haired one, holding her torn chemise together over her yellow

breast, began loudly to complain.

"I know, it's all the vodka. Wait a bit; I'll tell the inspector

tomorrow. He'll give it you. Can't I smell it? Mind, get it all

out of the way, or it will be the worse for you," said the

warder. "We've no time to settle your disputes. Get to your

places and be quiet."

But quiet was not soon re-established. For a long time the women

went on disputing and explaining to one another whose fault it

all was. At last the warder and the jailer left the cell, the

women grew quieter and began going to bed, and the old woman went

to the icon and commenced praying.