do for you?" he said, buttoning up the
middle button of his uniform.

"I went to the vice-governor, and here is my pass," said Nekhludoff,
handing him the document. "I would like to see Maslova."

"Markova?" asked the inspector, who could not hear him on account of
the music.

"Maslova."

"O, yes! O, yes!"

The inspector rose and approached the door through which Clementi's
roulade was heard.

"Marusia; if you would only stop for a little while," he said in a
voice which showed that this music was the cross of his life; "I
cannot hear anything."

The music ceased; discontented steps were heard, and some one looked
through the door.

The inspector, as if relieved by the cessation of the music, lit a
thick cigarette of light tobacco and offered one to Nekhludoff, which
he refused.

"Can Maslova----"

"It is not convenient to see Maslova to-day," said the inspector.

"Why?"

"It is your own fault," slightly smiling, said the inspector. "Prince,
you must not give her any money. If you wish to give her money, leave
it with me; I will keep it for her. You see, you must have given her
money yesterday, for she bought wine--it is hard to eradicate that
evil--and is intoxicated to-day. In fact, she became unruly."

"Is it possible?"

"Why, I even had to employ strict measures, had her transferred to
another cell. She is very tractable, but, please do not give her
money. That is their failing."

Nekhludoff quickly recalled the incident of yesterday, and he was
seized with fear.

"And may I see Bogodukhovskaia, the political?" Nekhludoff asked,
after some silence.

"Well, yes," said the inspector. "What are you doing here?" he turned
to a five-year-old girl who came into the room, walking toward her
father, her eyes riveted on Nekhludoff. "Look out, or you will fall,"
he said, smiling, as the little girl, walking with her head turned
toward Nekhludoff, tripped on the carpet and ran to her father.

"If she may be seen, I would go now."

"Oh yes; she may be seen, of course," said the inspector, embracing
the little girl, who was still looking at Nekhludoff. "All right----"

The inspector rose and gently turning the girl aside, walked into the
vestibule.

He had scarcely donned the overcoat handed him by the girl with the
bandaged eye and crossed the threshold when the distinct sounds of
Clementi's roulade broke out.

"She was at the Conservatory, but there is disorder in that
institution. But she is