ova.

"Kartinkin, sit down!"

Kartinkin still remained standing.

"Kartinkin, sit down!"

But Kartinkin stood still until the usher, his head leaning to the
side, and with wide-open eyes, whispered to him in a tragic tone:

"Sit down, sit down!"

Kartinkin sat down as quickly as he rose, and wrapping himself in his
coat began to move his cheeks.

"Your name?" With a sigh of weariness the presiding justice turned to
the next prisoner without looking at her, and consulted a paper before
him. He was so accustomed to the business that to expedite matters he
could try two cases at once.

Bochkova was forty-two years old, a burgess of the town of Koloma; by
occupation a servant--in the same Hotel Mauritania. Was never arrested
before, and had received a copy of the indictment. She gave the
answers very boldly and with an intonation which seemed to add to
every answer.

"Yes, Bochkova, Euphemia, have received a copy, and am proud of it,
and will permit no one to laugh at me."

Without waiting to be told to sit down, Bochkova sat down immediately
after the questioning ceased.

"Your name?" asked the presiding justice of the third prisoner. "You
must rise," he added, gently and courteously, seeing Maslova still in
her seat.

With quick movement Maslova rose with an air of submissiveness, and
throwing back her shoulders, looked into the face of the presiding
justice with her smiling, somewhat squinting black eyes.

"What are you called?"

"They used to call me Lubka," she answered, rapidly.

Meanwhile Nekhludoff put on his pince-nez and examined the prisoners
while they were questioned.

"It is impossible," he thought, looking intently at the prisoner. "But
her name is Lubka," he thought, as he heard her answer.

The presiding justice was about to continue his interrogation when the
member with the eye-glasses, angrily whispering something, stopped
him. The presiding justice nodded his assent and turned to the
prisoner.

"You say 'Lubka,' but a different name is entered here."

The prisoner was silent.

"I ask you what is your real name?"

"What name did you receive at baptism?" asked the angry member.

"Formerly I was called Katherine."

"It is impossible," Nekhludoff continued to repeat, although there was
no doubt in his mind now that it was she, that same servant ward with
whom he had been in love at one time--yes, in love, real love, and
whom in a moment of mental fever he led astray, then aba