than usual. "I wish to see you--I----"

"Don't give me any of your song and dance----" the tramp beside him
shouted. "Did you take it, or did you not?"

"She is dying; she is very weak," some one shouted on the other side.

Maslova could not hear Nekhludoff, but the expression of his face, as
she spoke, suddenly reminded her of that which she did not wish to
think of. The smile disappeared from her face, and a wrinkle on her
brow evidenced her suffering.

"I cannot hear what you are saying," she shouted, blinking and still
more knitting her brows.

"I came----"

"Yes, I am doing my duty; I am repenting," thought Nekhludoff, and
immediately tears filled his eyes, and he felt a choking sensation in
his throat. His fingers clutched at the net and he made efforts to
keep from sobbing.

"I should not have gone if you were well," came from one side.

"I swear by God I know nothing about it!" cried a prisoner from the
other side.

Maslova noticed his agitation, and it communicated itself to her. Her
eyes sparkled, and her puffy, white cheeks became covered with red
spots, but her face retained its severity, and her squinting eyes