Nekhludoff returned among the waiting crowd.

A man in threadbare clothing, rumpled hat and slippers on his bare
feet, and his face full of red lines, pushed his way through the crowd
and walked toward the prison door.

"Where are you going?" shouted the soldier.

"What are you bawling about?" answered the man, entirely undisturbed
by the soldier's challenge. "If I can't go in, I will wait. No use
bawling as if you were a general."

The crowd laughed approvingly. Most of the visitors were poorly
dressed, even ragged, but, judging by outward appearance, there were
also some decent men and women among them. Beside Nekhludoff stood a
well-dressed man, clean shaven, stout and with rosy cheeks, who
carried a bundle of what looked like linen. Nekhludoff asked him if
that was his first visit. The man answered that he came there every
Sunday, and they entered into conversation. He was an employee of a
bank, whose brother was under indictment for forgery. This
kind-hearted man told Nekhludoff all his story, and was about to ask
him about his own when their attention was attracted by a rubber-tired
carriage drawn by a blooded chestnut horse. The carriage was occupied
by a student and a lady whose face was hidden under a veil. The
student alighted, holding in his hand a large bundle. He approached
Nekhludoff and asked him where and how he should deliver the loaves of
bread he had brought for the prisoners. "I brought them at the request
of my bride. That is my bride. Her parents advised us to bring some
alms for the prisoners."