"Oh, Lord! Help me, teach me what to do!" Nekhludoff said to himself
as he looked at her face so completely changed.

"I was on the jury when you were tried," he said. "You did not
recognize me?"

"No, I did not. I had no time to recognize you. Besides, I did not
look," she answered.

"Wasn't there a child?" he asked, and he felt his face turning red.

"It died at that time, thank God," she said with bitterness, turning
away her head.

"How did it happen?"

"I was ill myself--nearly died," she said without raising her eyes.

"How could the aunts let you go?"

"Who would keep a servant with a child? As soon as they noticed it
they drove me out. But what is the use of talking! I don't remember
anything. It is all over now."

"No, it is not over. I cannot leave it thus. I now wish to atone for
my sin."

"There is nothing to atone for; what's gone is gone," she said, and,
all unexpected to him, she suddenly looked at him and smiled in an