"And may I see Bogodukhovskaia, the political?" Nekhludoff asked,
after some silence.

"Well, yes," said the inspector. "What are you doing here?" he turned
to a five-year-old girl who came into the room, walking toward her
father, her eyes riveted on Nekhludoff. "Look out, or you will fall,"
he said, smiling, as the little girl, walking with her head turned
toward Nekhludoff, tripped on the carpet and ran to her father.

"If she may be seen, I would go now."

"Oh yes; she may be seen, of course," said the inspector, embracing
the little girl, who was still looking at Nekhludoff. "All right----"

The inspector rose and gently turning the girl aside, walked into the
vestibule.

He had scarcely donned the overcoat handed him by the girl with the
bandaged eye and crossed the threshold when the distinct sounds of
Clementi's roulade broke out.

"She was at the Conservatory, but there is disorder in that
institution. But she is very gifted," said the inspector, walking down
the stairs. "She intends to appear at concerts."

The inspector and Nekhludoff neared the prison. The wicket immediately
opened at the approach of the inspector. The wardens standing to
attention followed him with their eyes. Four men with heads half
shaved, carrying large vessels, met him in the vestibule, and as they