of her face.

She carried herself very straight, expanding her full bosom.

With her head slightly thrown back, she stood in the corridor,
looking straight into the eyes of the jailer, ready to comply
with any order.

The jailer was about to lock the door when a wrinkled and
severe-looking old woman put out her grey head and began speaking
to Maslova. But the jailer closed the door, pushing the old
woman's head with it. A woman's laughter was heard from the cell,
and Maslova smiled, turning to the little grated opening in the
cell door. The old woman pressed her face to the grating from the
other side, and said, in a hoarse voice:

"Now mind, and when they begin questioning you, just repeat over
the same thing, and stick to it; tell nothing that is not
wanted."

"Well, it could not be worse than it is now, anyhow; I only wish
it was settled one way or another."

"Of course, it will be settled one way or another," said the
jailer, with a superior's self-assured witticism. "Now, then, get
along! Take your places!"

The old woman's eyes vanished from the grating, and Maslova
stepped out into the middle of the corridor. The warder in front,
they descended the stone stairs, past the still fouler, noisy