Nekhludoff silently looked in her eyes.  They were smiling.

“That is very good,” was all he could say.

“Yes, yes; she is an entirely different person,” thought Nekhludoff, for the first time experiencing, after his former doubts, the to him entirely new feeling of confidence in the invincibility of love.

* * * * *

Returning to her ill-smelling cell, Maslova removed her coat and sat down on her cot, her hands resting on her knees.  In the cell were only the consumptive with her babe, the old woman, Menshova, and the watch-woman with her two children.  The deacon’s daughter had been removed to the hospital; the others were washing.  The old woman lay on the cot sleeping; the children were in the corridor, the door to which was open.  The consumptive with the child in her arms and the watch-woman, who did not cease knitting a stocking with her nimble fingers, approached Maslova.

“Well, have you seen him?” they asked.

Maslova dangled her feet, which did not reach the floor, and made no answer.

“What are you whimpering about?” said the watch-woman.  “Above all, keep up your spirits.  Oh, Katiousha!  Well?” she said, rapidly moving her fingers.

Maslova made no answer.

“The women went washing.  They say that to-day’s alms were larger.  Many things have been brought, they say,” said the consumptive.

“Finashka!” shouted the watch-woman.  “Where are you, you little rogue?” She drew out one of the knitting needles, stuck it into the ball of thread and stocking, and went out into the corridor.

At this moment the inmates of the cell, with bare feet in their prison shoes, entered, each bearing a loaf of twisted bread, some even two.  Theodosia immediately approached Maslova.

“Why, anything wrong?” she asked, lovingly, looking with her bright, blue eyes at Maslova.  “And here is something for our tea,” and she placed the leaves on the shelf.

“Well, has he changed his mind about marrying you?” asked Korableva.

“No, he has not, but I do not wish to,” answered Maslova, “and I told him so.”

“What a fool!” said Korableva, in her basso voice.

“What is the good of marrying if they cannot live together?” asked Theodosia.

“Is not your husband going with you?” answered the watch-woman.

“We are legally married,” said Theodosia.  “But why should he marry her legally if he cannot live with her?”

“What a fool!  Why, if he marries her he will make her rich!”

“He said:  ‘Wherever you may be, I will be with you,’” said Maslova.

“He may go if he likes; he needn’t if he don’t.  I will not ask him.  He is now going to St. Petersburg to try to get me out.  All the ministers there are his relatives,” she continued, “but I don’t care for them.”

“Sure enough,” Korableva suddenly assented, reaching down into her bag, and evidently thinking of something else.  “What do you say—­shall we have some wine?”