She was thinking that under no circumstances would she marry a convict on the island of Saghalin, but would settle down some other way—­with some inspector, or clerk, or even the warden, or an assistant.  They are all eager for such a thing.  “Only I must not get thin.  Otherwise I am done for.”  And she recalled how she was looked at by her lawyer, the justiciary—­in fact, everybody in the court-room.  She recalled how Bertha, who visited her in prison, told her that the student, whom she loved while she was an inmate at Kitaeva’s, inquired about her and expressed his regrets when told of her condition.  She recalled the fight with the red-haired woman, and pitied her.  She called to mind the baker who sent her an extra lunch roll, and many others, but not Nekhludoff.  Of her childhood and youth, and especially of her love for Nekhludoff, she never thought.  That was too painful.  These recollections were hidden deeply in her soul.  She never saw Nekhludoff even in a dream.  She failed to recognize him in court, not so much because when she last saw him he was an army officer, beardless, with small mustache and thick, short hair, while now he was no longer young in appearance, and wore a beard, but more because she never thought of him.  She had buried all recollections of her past relations with him in that terrible dark night when, on his return from the army, he visited his aunts.

Up to that night, while she hoped for his return, the child which she bore under her heart was not irksome to her.  But from that night forward everything changed, and the coming child was only a hindrance.

The aunts had asked Nekhludoff to stop off at their station and call on them, but he wired that he would not be able to do it, as he had to reach St. Petersburg in time.  When Katiousha learned this, she decided to go to the railroad station to see him.  The train was to pass at two o’clock in the morning.  Katiousha helped the ladies to bed, and, having induced the cook’s girl, Mashka, to accompany her, she put on an old pair of shoes, threw a shawl over her head, gathered up her skirts and ran to the station.

It was a dark, rainy, windy, autumn night.  The rain now poured down in large, warm drops, now ceased.  The road could not be distinguished in the field, and it was pitch dark in the woods.  Although Katiousha was familiar with the road she lost her way in the woods, and reached a sub-station, where the train only stopped for three minutes.  Running on the platform, she espied Nekhludoff through the window of a first-class car.  The car was brightly illuminated.  Two officers sat on plush seats playing cards.  On the table near the window two thick candles were burning.  Nekhludoff sat on the arm of the seat, his elbow resting on the back, laughing.  As soon as she recognized him she tapped on the window with her cold hand.  But at that moment the third bell rang, and the train began to move, the cars jostling each other forward.  One of the players rose with