from which the water streamed off.  “May be it is necessary to lay the stones on the incline, but it is sad to see the soil deprived of vegetation when it could be made to grow grain, grass, shrubs and trees like those seen on those heights.  It is the same with people,” thought Nekhludoff.  “The whole trouble lies in that people think that there are conditions excluding the necessity of love in their intercourse with man, but such conditions do not exist.  Things may be treated without love; one may chop wood, make bricks, forge iron without love, but one can no more deal with people without love than one can handle bees without care.  The nature of bees is such that if you handle them carelessly you will harm them as well as yourself.  It is the same with people.  And it cannot be different, because mutual love is the basic law of human life.  True, man cannot compel himself to love, as he can compel himself to work, but it does not follow from this that in his dealings with men he can leave love out of consideration, especially if he wants something from them.  If you feel no love for people, then keep away from them,” Nekhludoff said to himself.  “Occupy yourself with things, yourself—­anything; only keep away from people.  As it is harmful to eat except when one is hungry, so is it harmful to have intercourse with people when one does not love them.  If one permits himself to deal with people without having any love for them, as I did yesterday with my brother-in-law, there is no limit to the cruelty and brutality one is liable to display toward others, as I have seen to-day, and there is no limit to one’s own suffering, as I have learned from all the experiences of my own life.  Yes, yes, that is so,” thought Nekhludoff, experiencing the double pleasure of a cool breeze after the intolerable heat, and the consciousness of having reached the highest degree of lucidity in the question which had so long occupied him.

PART THIRD.

CHAPTER I.

The party of convicts to which Maslova belonged had gone about thirty-five hundred miles.  It was not until Perm was reached that Nekhludoff succeeded in obtaining Maslova’s transfer to the contingent of politicals, as he was advised to do by Bogodukhovskaia, who was among them.

The journey to Perm was very burdensome to Maslova, both physically and morally—­physically because of the crowded condition of their quarters, the uncleanliness and disgusting insects, which gave her no rest; morally because of the equally loathsome men who, though they changed at every stopping place, were like the insects, always insolent, intrusive and gave her little rest.  The cynicism prevailing among the convicts and their overseers was such that every woman, especially the young women, had to be on the alert.  Maslova was particularly subject to these attacks because of her attractive looks and