Maslova was going to say that she had been brought from the court, but she was very tired and too lazy to speak.
"She is just from the court, sir," said one of the guards, elbowing his way through the passing crowd, and raising his hand to his cap.
"Then take her to the warden. What indecencies!"
"Very well, sir!"
"Sokoloff! Take her away!" shouted the officer.
Sokoloff came and angrily pushed Maslova by the shoulder, and, motioning to her to follow him, he led her into the woman's corridor. There she was thoroughly searched, and as nothing was found upon her (the box of cigarettes was hidden in the lunch roll), she was admitted into the same cell from which she had emerged in the morning.
CHAPTER XXX.
The cell in which Maslova was confined was an oblong room, twenty feet by fifteen. The kalsomining of the walls was peeled off, and the dry boards of the cots occupied two-thirds of the space. In the middle of the room, opposite the door, was a dark iron, with a wax candle stuck on it, and a dusty bouquet of immortelles hanging under it. To the left, behind the door, on a darkened spot of the floor, stood an ill-smelling vat. The women had been locked up for the night.
There were fifteen inmates of this cell, twelve women and three children.