Maslova was silent for a few moments; then sighed deeply.
"Is it true, master, that twelve people have died from the heat?" said a churlish old woman in a hoarse voice.
It was Korableva.
"I don't know that twelve have died. I have seen two," said Nekhludoff.
"They say twelve. They ought to be punished for it, the devils!"
"How is it with the women?" asked Nekhludoff.
"Women are stronger," said another prisoner, smiling. "Only there is one who has taken it into her head to give birth to a child. Listen to her wailing," she said, pointing to the adjacent car, from which the moaning proceeded.
"You asked if anything was needed," said Maslova, endeavoring to restrain a happy smile. "Could not that woman be taken off the train? She suffers so. Won't you tell the authorities?"
"Yes, I will."
"Another thing—could you not get her to see her husband, Tarass?" she added, pointing to the smiling Theodosia. "He is going with you, isn't he?"