street.

"What is the matter with him? What did you do to him?" Annette asked
her husband.

"That is à la française," said some one.

"Rather à la zoulon."

"Oh, he has always been queer."

Some one arose, some one arrived, and the chirping continued.

The following morning Nekhludoff received from Maslenikoff a letter on
heavy, glossy paper, bearing a coat-of-arms and seals, written in a
fine, firm hand, in which he said that he had written to the prison
physician asking that Maslova be transferred, and that he hoped his
request would be acceded to. It was signed, "Your loving senior
comrade," followed by a remarkably skillful flourish.

"Fool!" Nekhludoff could not help exclaiming, especially because he
felt that by the word "comrade" Maslenikoff was condescending, i. e.,
although he considered himself a very important personage, he
nevertheless was not too proud of his greatness, and called himself
his comrade.




CHAPTER LVII.