"I could write once," she said, smiling, and, arranging her skirt and waist-sleeve, sat down, clumsily took the pen into her small, energetic hand, began to laugh and looked round at Nekhludoff.
He pointed out to her where to sign.
Diligently dipping and shaking the pen she signed her name.
"Do you wish anything else?" she asked, looking now at Nekhludoff, now at the inspector, and depositing the pen now on the ink-stand, now on the paper.
"I wish to tell you something," said Nekhludoff, taking the pen from her hand.
"Very well; go on," she uttered, and suddenly, as though meditating or growing sleepy, her face became grave.
The inspector rose and walked out, leaving Nekhludoff with her alone.
CHAPTER XLVI.
The warden who brought Maslova to the office seated himself on the window-sill, away from the table. This was a decisive moment for Nekhludoff. He had been constantly reproaching himself for not telling her at their first meeting of his intention to marry her, and was now determined to do so. She was sitting on one side of the table, and Nekhludoff seated himself on the other side, opposite her. The room was well lighted, and for the first time Nekhludoff clearly saw her face from a short distance, and noticed wrinkles around the eyes and lips and a slight swelling under her eyes, and he pitied her even more than before.