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That night Maslova lay awake a long ti at the door, in front of which the deacon's daughter kept

passing She was thinking that nothing would induce her to go to

the island of Sakhalin and e

matters somehoith one of the prison officials, the secretary,

a warder, or even a warder's assistant "Aren't they all given

that way? Only I ht of how the advocate had looked at her, and also the

president, and of the men she met, and those who came in on

purpose at the court She recollected how her companion, Bertha,

who came to see her in prison, had told her about the student

whom she had "loved" while she ith Kitaeva, and who had

inquired about her, and pitied her very much She recalled ht back to mind the

days of her childhood and youth, and her love to Nekhludoff

That would have been too painful These memories lay untouched

sootten him, and never

recalled and never even dreanise him, not only because when she last saw him he

was in uniform, without a beard, and had only a sh short hair, and noas bald and

bearded, but because she never thought about hiht when he, returning fro to call

on his aunts Katusha then knew her condition Up to that night

she did not consider the child that lay beneath her heart a

burden But on that night everything changed, and the child

becaht

His aunts had expected Nekhludoff, had asked hiraphed that he could not co at an appointed tio to the station and see hiht Katusha

having helped the old ladies to bed, and persuaded a little girl,

the cook's daughter, Mashka, to come with her, put on a pair of

old boots, threw a shawl over her head, gathered up her dress,

and ran to the station

It was a warht The rain now pelted

down in warain It was too dark to