resounded through the entire corridor. "Don't let me hear you again."

"Fooling again, you old man?" she said, treating it as a caress.

"Hurry up! It is time for mass."

Scarcely had Maslova arranged her hair when the inspector entered with
his attendants.

"Make ready for inspection!" shouted the warden.

The women of the two cells formed in two rows along the corridor,
those of the back row placing their hands on the shoulders of the
women in the front row. Then they were counted.

After the count came the woman inspector and led the prisoners to the
church. Maslova and Theodosia were in the middle of the column, which
consisted of over a hundred women from all the cells. They all had
white 'kerchiefs on their heads, and some few wore their own colored
dresses. These were the wives and children of convicts. The procession
covered the whole stairway. A soft clatter of prison shoes was heard,
here and there some conversation, and sometimes laughter. At a turn
Maslova noticed the malicious face of her enemy, Bochkova, who was
walking in the front row, and pointed her out to Theodosia. At the
foot of the stairs the women became silent, and, making the sign of
the cross and bowing, they filed into the open door of the empty,
gold-bedecked chapel. Their place was on the right, where, crowding
each other, they began to arrange themselves in rows, standing. Behind
the women came the male convicts who were serving terms or detained
for transportation under sentence by the communities. Loudly clearing