“She does not wish it.”

“I understand; but life—­”

“Yes—­life?”

“Demands something different.”

“It demands nothing but that we should do what is right,” said Nekhludoff, looking into her face, still handsome, though slightly wrinkled round eyes and mouth.

“I do not understand,” she said, and sighed.

“Poor darling; how could she change so?” he thought, calling back to his mind Nathalie as she had been before her marriage, and feeling towards her a tenderness woven out of innumerable memories of childhood.  At that moment Rogozhinsky entered the room, with head thrown back and expanded chest, and stepping lightly and softly in his usual manner, his spectacles, his bald patch, and his black beard all glistening.

“How do you do?  How do you do?” he said, laying an unnatural and intentional stress on his words. (Though, soon after the marriage, they had tried to be more familiar with each other, they had never succeeded.)

They shook hands, and Rogozhinsky sank softly into an easy-chair.

“Am I not interrupting your conversation?”

“No, I do not wish to hide what I am saying or doing from any one.”

As soon as Nekhludoff saw the hairy hands, and heard the patronising, self-assured tones, his meekness left him in a moment.

“Yes, we were talking about his intentions,” said Nathalie.  “Shall I give you a cup of tea?” she added, taking the teapot.

“Yes, please.  What particular intentions do you mean?”

“That of going to Siberia with the gang of prisoners, among whom is the woman I consider myself to have wronged,” uttered Nekhludoff.

“I hear not only to accompany her, but more than that.”

“Yes, and to marry her if she wishes it.”

“Dear me!  But if you do not object I should like to ask you to explain your motives.  I do not understand them.”

“My motives are that this woman—­that this woman’s first step on her way to degradation—­” Nekhludoff got angry with himself, and was unable to find the right expression.  “My motives are that I am the guilty one, and she gets the punishment.”

“If she is being punished she cannot be innocent, either.”

“She is quite innocent.”  And Nekhludoff related the whole incident with unnecessary warmth.

“Yes, that was a case of carelessness on the part of the president, the result of which was a thoughtless answer on the part of the jury; but there is the Senate for cases like that.”

“The Senate has rejected the appeal.”

“Well, if the Senate has rejected it, there cannot have been sufficient reasons for an appeal,” said Rogozhinsky, evidently sharing the prevailing opinion that truth is the product of judicial decrees.  “The Senate cannot enter into the question on its merits.  If there is a real mistake, the Emperor should be petitioned.”

“That has been done, but there is no probability of success.  They will apply to the Department of the Ministry, the Department will consult the Senate, the Senate will repeat its decision, and, as usual, the innocent will get punished.”