that other people believed in Him; but after that night she became
convinced that no one believed, and all that was said of God and His
law was false and wrong. The one whom she loved, and who loved
her--she knew it--abandoned her and made sport of her feelings. And he
was the best of all the men she knew. All the others were even worse.
This she saw confirmed in all that had happened. His aunts, pious old
ladies, drove her out when she was no longer as useful as she used to
be. All the women with whom she came in contact tried to make money by
her; the men, beginning with the commissary and down to the prison
officers, all looked upon her as a means of pleasure. The whole world
was after pleasure. Her belief in this was strengthened by the old
author whom she met during the second year of her independent life. He
had told her frankly that this--he called it poetical and esthetic--is
all of life's happiness.

Every one lived for himself only, for his own pleasure, and all the
words about God and goodness were deception. And if the questions
sometimes occurred to her, Why were the affairs of the world so ill
arranged that people harm each other, and all suffer, she thought it
best not to dwell on it. If she became lonesome, she took a drink,
smoked a cigarette, and the feeling would pass away.




CHAPTER XXXVIII.


When at five o'clock the following morning, which was Sunday, the
customary whistle blew, Korableva, who was already awake, roused