his breath failing him. The decisive moment was approaching. He neared
the net and recognized Katiousha. She stood behind the blue-eyed
Theodosia, and, smiling, listened to her conversation. She did not
wear the prison coat, but a white waist, tightly belted, and rising
high above the breast. As in the court, her black hair hung in curls
over her 'kerchiefed forehead.

"It will all be over in a moment," he thought. "Shall I address her,
or shall I wait till she addresses me?"

But she did not address him. She was waiting for Clara, and never
thought that that man came to see her.

"Whom do you wish to see?" the matron asked Nekhludoff, approaching
him.

"Katherine Maslova," he stammered.

"Maslova, you are wanted," shouted the matron.

Maslova turned round, raised her head, and with the familiar
expression of submissiveness, came to the net. She did not recognize
Nekhludoff, and gazed at him in surprise. However, judging by his
dress that he was a rich man, she smiled.

"What are you?" she asked, pressing her smiling face with squinting
eyes against the net.

"I wish to see--" He did not know whether to use the respectful "you"
or the endearing "thou," and decided on the former. He spoke no louder