looking through the windows; the languid quarrels; then the perfuming
of her body and hair, the trying on of dresses, and the quarrels with
the mistress which they occasioned; contemplating herself in the
mirror, rouging her face, darkening her eyebrows. Then came the sweet,
rich food, the bright silk dress, the entry into the brightly lighted
parlor, the arrival of the guests, music, dancing, confectionery, wine
and cigarettes.

Thus Maslova lived for seven years. On the eighth, when she had
reached her twenty-sixth year, there happened that for which she had
been jailed, and for which she was now led to the court, after six
months of confinement among thieves and murderers.




CHAPTER III.


At the time when Maslova, exhausted by the long walk, was approaching
with the armed convoy the building in which court was held, the same
nephew of the ladies that brought her up, Prince Dmitri Ivanovitch
Nekhludoff, who deceived her, lay on his high, soft, spring
feather-bed, in spotless Holland linen, smoking a cigarette. He was
gazing before him, contemplating the events of the previous day and
considering what he had before him for that day. As he thought of the
previous evening, spent at the Korchagins, a wealthy and influential
family, whose daughter, rumor had it, he was to marry, he sighed, and
throwing away the butt of his cigarette, he was on the point of taking
another from the silver cigarette holder, but changed his mind. Half