“Maslova? Yes, of course, I know. She was accused of poisoning,” the Procureur said, quietly. “But why do you want to see her?” And then, as if wishing to tone down his question, he added, “I cannot give you the permission without knowing why you require it.”
“I require it for a particularly important reason.”
“Yes?” said the Procureur, and, lifting his eyes, looked attentively at Nekhludoff. “Has her case been heard or not?”
“She was tried yesterday, and unjustly sentenced; she is innocent.”
“Yes? If she was sentenced only yesterday,” went on the Procureur, paying no attention to Nekhludoff’s statement concerning Maslova’s innocence, “she must still be in the preliminary detention prison until the sentence is delivered in its final form. Visiting is allowed there only on certain days; I should advise you to inquire there.”
“But I must see her as soon as possible,” Nekhludoff said, his jaw trembling as he felt the decisive moment approaching.
“Why must you?” said the Procureur, lifting his brows with some agitation.
“Because I betrayed her and brought her to the condition which exposed her to this accusation.”
“All the same, I cannot see what it has to do with visiting her.”
“This: that whether I succeed or not in getting the sentence changed I want to follow her, and—marry her,” said Nekhludoff, touched to tears by his own conduct, and at the same time pleased to see the effect he produced on the Procureur.