"Is that so?" said the general.
"He is very sick—he is a dying man. And he will probably be left here in the hospital; for this reason one of the female prisoners would like to remain with him."
"Is she a relative of his?"
"No. But she wishes to marry him, if it will allow her to stay with him."
The general looked sharply at Nekhludoff from his shining eyes, and, smoking continually, he kept silence, as if wishing to confound his companion.
When Nekhludoff had finished he took a book from the table, and frequently wetting the fingers with which he turned the leaves, he lighted on the chapter treating of marriage and perused it.
"What's her sentence?" he asked, lifting his eyes from the book.
"Hers? Hard labor."
"If this is the case, the sentence cannot be changed by marriage."
"But——"