'What do I want with money?' she murmured; 'better get me a situation.'

'I will try to get you a situation, but I can't answer for it for
certain; but you ought not to make any scruple, really ... I'm not like
a stranger to you, you know.... Accept this from me, in memory of our
friend....'

I turned away, hurriedly pulled a few notes out of my pocket-book, and
handed them to her.

Masha was standing motionless, her head still more downcast.

'Take it,' I persisted.

She slowly raised her eyes to me, looked me in the face mournfully,
slowly drew her pale hand from under her kerchief and held it out to
me.

I laid the notes in her cold fingers. Without a word, she hid the hand
again under her kerchief, and dropped her eyes.

'In future, Maria Petrovna,' I resumed, 'if you should be in want of
anything, please apply directly to me. I will give you my address.'

'I humbly thank you,' she said, and after a short pause she added: 'He
did not speak to you of me?'

'I only met him the day before his death, Maria Petrovna. But I'm not
sure ... I believe he did say something.'