Chapter 45 Part One - Forty Two

"However, what must be done must be done," Nekhludoff encouraged himself. "But what to do?" He looked for the officer with his eyes.Seeing a small man with an officer's epaulettes and a mustache walking up and down behind the crowd, he said to him: "Sir, where are the female prisoners? Where can I meet them?" He asked very nervously but humbly. "Do you want to visit the female prisoner?" "Yes, I wish to meet a woman who is imprisoned here," replied Nekhludoff, still tense and humble. "That's what you should have said in the assembly hall. So who do you want to see?"

"I want to see Maslova." "Is she a political prisoner?" asked the deputy warden. "No, she's just..." "What about her, has she been judged?" "Yes, she passed the sentence the day before yesterday," replied Nekhludoff meekly, not wanting to spoil the mood of the vice-prefect, who seemed to sympathize with him. "Since you are going to visit the women's prison, please come here," said the deputy superintendent, evidently seeing from Nekhludoff's appearance that his services were worthwhile. "Sidorov," he said to the mustache sergeant, who wore medals on his breast, "take this gentleman to the women's visiting room."

"Yes, sir." At this moment, there was a heart-rending cry from beyond the iron fence. Everything seemed queer to Nekhludoff, and the queerest thing was that he had to be grateful to the warden and warden, to the people who committed all kinds of atrocities in the house, and to think that he had received their favor. . The warden led Nekhludoff from the men's visiting room into the corridor, opened the door opposite, and led him into the women's visiting room. This room is also like the visiting room of the men's prison, divided into three parts by two barbed wires, but the place is much smaller, and there are fewer visiting people and prisoners, but the noise inside is the same as that of the men's prison.There was also an officer pacing back and forth between the two barbed wire fences.Here, however, the officer was a female guard, also wearing a uniform, with silk tape on the cuffs and blue borders, and a wide belt around the waist like the male guard.The barbed wire fences on both sides, like the visiting rooms of men’s prisons, are covered with people: here are city residents in all kinds of clothes, and there are female prisoners in white prison clothes or civilian clothes.The entire barbed wire fence was packed with people.Some people stand on tiptoes so that they can speak over other people's heads so that the other person can hear them more clearly; some people sit on the floor and talk to each other.

Among all the female prisoners, there was a woman who was particularly conspicuous, and her shouts and appearance were also particularly noticeable.It was a disheveled, emaciated gypsy prisoner whose kerchief had slipped from her curly hair.She was standing beyond the barbed wire, close to the post, almost in the middle of the room, shouting something to a gypsy man in a blue jacket with a belt tight around his waist, gesticulating quickly.Next to the gypsy man, squatting a soldier was talking to a prisoner.Beyond that stood a little peasant in bark shoes, with a light beard and a flushed face, evidently trying to hold back his tears.He was talking to a fair-haired, good-looking female prisoner.She looked at him with bright blue eyes.This is Fedosya and her husband.Beside them stood a ragged man talking to a broad-faced woman with disheveled hair.Beyond that are two women, a man and a woman, each talking to the female prisoner opposite.Maslova was not seen among the prisoners.But on the other side, behind the female prisoners, stood a woman.Nekhludoff at once realized that the woman was her, and his heart was beating so fast that he was almost out of breath.The moment of life and death has arrived.He walked to the barbed wire and recognized her.She stood behind the blue-eyed Fedosya, listening to her with a smile.She was not wearing a prison robe like the day before yesterday, but only a white blouse with a tight belt, and her breasts were high.His curly black hair peeked out from under the scarf, just like in court that day.

"It's about to be a showdown," he thought to himself. "What should I call her? Maybe she'll come by herself?" But she didn't come over.She was waiting for Clara, and it never occurred to her that this man was looking for her. "Who do you want?" asked the guard, who was walking among the wire fences, approaching Nekhludoff. "Maslova," Nekhludoff said with difficulty. "Maslova, someone is looking for you!" cried the guard.