“At last I have found you,” she said.  Nekhludoff rose to greet Missy, Misha, and Osten, and to say a few words to them.  Missy told him about their house in the country having been burnt down, which necessitated their moving to her aunt’s.  Osten began relating a funny story about a fire.  Nekhludoff paid no attention, and turned to his sister.

“How glad I am that you have come.”

“I have been here a long time,” she said.  “Agraphena Petrovna is with me.”  And she pointed to Agraphena Petrovna, who, in a waterproof and with a bonnet on her head, stood some way off, and bowed to him with kindly dignity and some confusion, not wishing to intrude.

“We looked for you everywhere.”

“And I had fallen asleep here.  How glad I am that you have come,” repeated Nekhludoff.  “I had begun to write to you.”

“Really?” she said, looking frightened.  “What about?”

Missy and the gentleman, noticing that an intimate conversation was about to commence between the brother and sister, went away.  Nekhludoff and his sister sat down by the window on a velvet-covered sofa, on which lay a plaid, a box, and a few other things.

“Yesterday, after I left you, I felt inclined to return and express my regret, but I did not know how he would take it,” said Nekhludoff.  “I spoke hastily to your husband, and this tormented me.”

“I knew,” said his sister, “that you did not mean to.  Oh, you know!” and the tears came to her eyes, and she touched his hand.  The sentence was not clear, but he understood it perfectly, and was touched by what it expressed.  Her words meant that, besides the love for her husband which held her in its sway, she prized and considered important the love she had for him, her brother, and that every misunderstanding between them caused her deep suffering.

“Thank you, thank you.  Oh! what I have seen to-day!” he said, suddenly recalling the second of the dead convicts.  “Two prisoners have been done to death.”

“Done to death?  How?”

“Yes, done to death.  They led them in this heat, and two died of sunstroke.”

“Impossible!  What, to-day? just now?”

“Yes, just now.  I have seen their bodies.”

“But why done to death?  Who killed them?” asked Nathalie.

“They who forced them to go killed them,” said Nekhludoff, with irritation, feeling that she looked at this, too, with her husband’s eyes.

“Oh, Lord!” said Agraphena Petrovna, who had come up to them.

“Yes, we have not the slightest idea of what is being done to these unfortunate beings.  But it ought to be known,” added Nekhludoff, and looked at old Korchagin, who sat with a napkin tied round him and a bottle before him, and who looked round at Nekhludoff.

“Nekhludoff,” he called out, “won’t you join me and take some refreshment?  It is excellent before a journey.”

Nekhludoff refused, and turned away.