Nekhludoff passed by and approached one of the windows of the third car, pointed out to him by one of the guards.  Overheated air, impregnated with a thick odor of perspiration, assailed his nostrils, and shrill women’s voices were distinctly heard.  All the benches were occupied by flushed, perspiring women in waists and coats, loudly conversing.  His approach attracted their attention.  Those sitting nearest to the grated window became silent.  Maslova, in a waist and without headgear, was sitting near the opposite window.  The smiling Theodosia, who was sitting near Maslova, seeing Nekhludoff, pushed her with her elbow and pointed to Nekhludoff.  Maslova hurriedly rose, threw a ’kerchief over her black hair, and, with an animated, red, perspiring and smiling face, came near the window and placed her hands on the grating.

“But how warm it is!” she said, smiling joyously.

“Did you get the things?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Do you need anything?” asked Nekhludoff, feeling the heat issuing from the window as from a steam bath.

“I do not need anything.  Thank you.”

“If we could only get some water,” said Theodosia.

“Yes, some water,” repeated Maslova.

“I will ask one of the guards,” said Nekhludoff.  “We will not meet now until we reach Nijhni.”

“Why, are you going there?” she said, as if she did not know it, but joyously glancing at Nekhludoff.

“I am going on the next train.”

Maslova was silent for a few moments; then sighed deeply.

“Is it true, master, that twelve people have died from the heat?” said a churlish old woman in a hoarse voice.

It was Korableva.

“I don’t know that twelve have died.  I have seen two,” said Nekhludoff.

“They say twelve.  They ought to be punished for it, the devils!”

“How is it with the women?” asked Nekhludoff.

“Women are stronger,” said another prisoner, smiling.  “Only there is one who has taken it into her head to give birth to a child.  Listen to her wailing,” she said, pointing to the adjacent car, from which the moaning proceeded.

“You asked if anything was needed,” said Maslova, endeavoring to restrain a happy smile.  “Could not that woman be taken off the train?  She suffers so.  Won’t you tell the authorities?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Another thing—­could you not get her to see her husband, Tarass?” she added, pointing to the smiling Theodosia.  “He is going with you, isn’t he?”

At this point the voice of a sergeant was heard reminding Nekhludoff that talking with the prisoners was prohibited.  It was not the sergeant who passed Nekhludoff.

Nekhludoff walked off to find the captain, intending to see him about the sick woman and Tarass, but for a long time could not find him, the guards being too busy to answer his inquiries.  Some were leading away one of the convicts; others were hurrying away to buy their provisions; still others were attending a lady who was traveling with the captain of the convoy.