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"Now, then, hurry up, Maslova, I say!" called out the jailer, andin a minute or two a small young woman with a very full bust camebriskly out of the door and went up to the jailer. She had on agrey cloak over a white jacket and petticoat. On her feet shewore linen stockings and prison shoes, and round her head wastied a white kerchief, from under which a few locks of black hairwere brushed over the forehead with evident intent. The face ofthe woman was of that whiteness peculiar to people who have livedlong in confinement, and which puts one in mind of shoots ofpotatoes that spring up in a cellar. Her small broad hands andfull neck, which showed from under the broad collar of her cloak,were of the same hue. Her black, sparkling eyes, one with aslight squint, appeared in striking contrast to the dull pallorof her face.

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She carried herself very straight, expanding her full bosom. wigger


With her head slightly thrown back, she stood in the corridor,looking straight into the eyes of the jailer, ready to complywith any order.

The jailer was about to lock the door when a wrinkled andsevere-looking old woman put out her grey head and began speakingto Maslova. But the jailer closed the door, pushing the oldwoman's head with it. A woman's laughter was heard from the cell,and Maslova smiled, turning to the little grated opening in thecell door. The old woman pressed her face to the grating from theother side, and said, in a hoarse voice: wig stand

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"Now mind, and when they begin questioning you, just repeat overthe same thing, and stick to it; tell nothing that is notwanted."

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