Her lips trembled as she spoke the terrible word.

“I knew, I was certain that you were innocent,” said Nekhludoff.

“Of course I was innocent.  I am no thief or robber.  They say here that it all depends on the lawyer; that it is necessary to appeal.  Only they say it comes very high——­”

“Yes, certainly,” said Nekhludoff.  “I have already seen a lawyer.”

“One must not be sparing, and get a good one,” she said.

“I will do everything in my power.”

They were silent.  She again smiled as before.

“I would like to ask you—­for some money, if you have it—­not much, say ten rubles,” she said suddenly.

“Yes, yes,” said Nekhludoff, abashed, and thrust his hand in his pocket.

She quickly glanced at the inspector, who was walking up and down the aisle.

“Don’t let him see it, or he will take it away.”

Nekhludoff took out his pocketbook as soon as the director turned his back on them, but before he could hand her the ten-ruble bill the inspector turned round, facing them.  He crumpled the bill in his hand.

“Why, she is a dead woman,” thought Nekhludoff as he looked at her once lovely, but now defiled, bloated face with the unhealthy sparkle in her black, squinting eyes, which looked now at the inspector, now at Nekhludoff’s hand with the crumpled bill.  And a moment of hesitation came over him.

Again the tempter of the night before whispered in his soul, endeavoring to turn the question, What would be the best thing to do? into, What will be the end of it?

“You can do nothing with that woman,” whispered the voice.  “She will be like a stone around your neck, which will drag you down, and prevent your being useful to others.  Give her all the money you have, bid her good-by and put an end to it for all time.”

And immediately he became aware that something important was taking place in his soul; that his inner life was on a wavering scale, which could by the slightest effort be made to overbalance to one side or the other.  And he made that effort, calling on that God whom the other day he felt in his soul, and God immediately came to his aid.  He resolved to tell her all.

“Katiousha!  I came to ask your forgiveness, but you have not answered me whether you have forgiven me, or ever will forgive me,” he said suddenly.

She was not listening to him, but looked now at his hand, now at the inspector.  When the latter turned away, she quickly stretched forth her hand, seized the money from Nekhludoff’s hand and stuck it behind her belt.

“How funny!” she said, smiling contemptuously as it seemed to him.

Nekhludoff saw that there was something inimical to him in her, which stood guard, as it were, over her as she was now, and prevented him from penetrating into her heart.