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The corporal showed Nekhludoff through the corridor, out of themen's into the women's interviewing-room.

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This room, like that of the men, was divided by two wire nets;but it was much smaller, and there were fewer visitors and fewerprisoners, so that there was less shouting than in the men'sroom. Yet the same thing was going on here, only, between thenets instead of soldiers there was a woman warder, dressed in ablue-edged uniform jacket, with gold cords on the sleeves, and ablue belt. Here also, as in the men's room, the people werepressing close to the wire netting on both sides; on the nearerside, the townspeople in varied attire; on the further side, theprisoners, some in white prison clothes, others in their owncoloured dresses. The whole length of the net was taken up by thepeople standing close to it. Some rose on tiptoe to be heardacross the heads of others; some sat talking on the floor.

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The most remarkable of the prisoners, both by her piercingscreams and her appearance, was a thin, dishevelled gipsy. Herkerchief had slipped off her curly hair, and she stood near apost in the middle of the prisoner's division, shoutingsomething, accompanied by quick gestures, to a gipsy man in ablue coat, girdled tightly below the waist. Next the gipsy man, asoldier sat on the ground talking to prisoner; next the soldier,leaning close to the net, stood a young peasant, with a fairbeard and a flushed face, keeping back his tears with difficulty.A pretty, fair-haired prisoner, with bright blue eyes, wasspeaking to him. These two were Theodosia and her husband. Nextto them was a tramp, talking to a broad-faced woman; then twowomen, then a man, then again a woman, and in front of each aprisoner. Maslova was not among them. But some one stood by thewindow behind the prisoners, and Nekhludoff knew it was she. Hisheart began to beat faster, and his breath stopped. The decisivemoment was approaching. He went up to the part of the net wherehe could see the prisoner, and recognised her at once. She stoodbehind the blue-eyed Theodosia, and smiled, listening to whatTheodosia was saying. She did not wear the prison cloak now, buta white dress, tightly drawn in at the waist by a belt, and veryfull in the bosom. From under her kerchief appeared the blackringlets of her fringe, just the same as in the court.

"Now, in a moment it will be decided," he thought.

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"How shall I call her? Or will she come herself?" washing a human hair wig

"She was expecting Bertha; that this man had come to see hernever entered her head. human hair wigs augusta ga

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