spied him slunk back. One of them, in a particularly gloomy way, knit
his brow, his black eyes flashing fire.

"Of course, her talent must be perfected; it cannot be neglected. But
in a small apartment it is hard, you know," the inspector continued
the conversation without paying any attention to the prisoners, and
dragging his tired legs passed into the meeting-room, followed by
Nekhludoff.

"Whom do you wish to see?" asked the inspector.

"Bogodukhovskaia."

"That is from the tower. You will have to wait a little," he turned to
Nekhludoff.

"Couldn't you let me see, meantime, the prisoners Menshov--mother and
son--who are charged with incendiarism?"

"That is from cell 21. Why, yes; they may be called out."

"Would you allow me to see the son in his cell?"

"It is quieter in the meeting-room."

"But it is interesting to see him there."

"Interesting!"

At that moment a dashing officer, the inspector's assistant, appeared