“I have a family.”
“But, if it is so hard—”
“Well, still you know it is possible to be of use in some measure; I soften down all I can. Another in my place would conduct the affairs quite differently. Why, we have more than 2,000 persons here. And what persons! One must know how to manage them. It is easier said than done, you know. After all, they are also men; one cannot help pitying them.” The inspector began telling Nekhludoff of a fight that had lately taken place among the convicts, which had ended by one man being killed.
The story was interrupted by the entrance of Maslova, who was accompanied by a jailer.
Nekhludoff saw her through the doorway before she had noticed the inspector. She was following the warder briskly, smiling and tossing her head. When she saw the inspector she suddenly changed, and gazed at him with a frightened look; but, quickly recovering, she addressed Nekhludoff boldly and gaily.
“How d’you do?” she said, drawling out her words, and smilingly took his hand and shook it vigorously, not like the first time.
“Here, I’ve brought you a petition to sign,” said Nekhludoff, rather surprised by the boldness with which she greeted him to-day.
“The advocate has written out a petition which you will have to sign, and then we shall send it to Petersburg.”
“All right! That can be done. Anything you like,” she said, with a wink and a smile.
And Nekhludoff drew a folded paper from his pocket and went up to the table.