"Those are the only happy people here," said the young man in the
rubber jacket who stood near Nekhludoff, pointing to the young lovers.

Seeing the glances of Nekhludoff and the young man, the lovers--the
convict and the flaxen-haired girl--stretched their clasping hands,
threw back their heads, and began to dance in a circle.

"They will be married this evening in the prison, and she will go with
him to Siberia," said the young man.

"Who is he, then?"

"He is a penal convict. Although they are making merry, it is very
painful to listen," added the young man, listening to the sobbing of
the old man with the blue eye-glasses.

"Please, please don't compel me to take severe measures," said the
inspector, several times repeating the same thing. "Please, please,"
he said, weakly and irresolutely. "Well, now, this cannot go on.
Please, now come. For the last time I repeat it," he said, in a sad
voice, seating himself and rising again; lighting and then
extinguishing his cigarette.

Finally the prisoners and visitors began to depart--the former passing
through the inner, the latter through the outer, door. First the man
in the rubber coat passed out; then the consumptive and the
dark-featured convict; next Vera Efremovna and Maria Pavlovna, and the
boy who was born in the prison.

The visitors also filed out. The old man with the blue eye-glasses