prisoners and friends.

the office consisted of two rooms. the first room, with a large, dilapidated stove and two dirty windows, had a black measure for measuring the prisoners in one corner, and in another corner hung a large image of christ, as is usual in places where they torture people. in this room stood several jailers. in the next room sat about twenty persons, men and women in groups and in pairs, talking in low voices. there was a writing table by the window.

the inspector sat down by the table, and offered nekhludoff a chair beside him. nekhludoff sat down, and looked at the people in the room.

the first who drew his attention was a young man with a pleasant face, dressed in a short jacket, standing in front of a middle-aged woman with dark eyebrows, and he was eagerly telling her something and gesticulating with his hands. beside them sat an old man, with blue spectacles, holding the hand of a young woman in prisoner's clothes, who was telling him something. a schoolboy, with a fixed, frightened look on his face, was gazing at the old man. in one corner sat a pair of lovers. she was quite young and pretty, and had short, fair hair, looked energetic, and was elegantly dressed; he had fine features, wavy hair, and wore a rubber jacket. they sat in their corner and seemed stupefied with love. nearest to the table sat a grey-haired woman dressed in black, evidently the mother of a young, consumptive-looking fellow, in the same kind of jacket. her head lay on his shoulder. she was trying to say something, but the tears prevented her from speaking; she began several times, but had to stop. the young man held a paper in his hand, and, apparently not knowing what to do, kept folding and pressing it with an angry look on his face.

beside them was a short-haired, stout, rosy girl, with very prominent eyes, dressed in a grey dress and a cape; she sat beside the weeping mother, tenderly stroking her. everything about this girl was beautiful; her large, white hands, her short, wavy hair, her firm nose and lips, but the chief charm of her face lay in her kind, truthful hazel eyes. the beautiful eyes turned away from the mother for a moment when nekhludoff came in, and met his look. but she turned back at once and said something to the mother.

not far from the lovers a dark, dishevelled man, with a gloomy face, sat angrily talking to a beardless visitor, who looked as if he belonged to the scoptsy sect.

at the very door stood a young man in a rubber jacket, who seemed more concerned about the impression he produced on the onlooker than about what he was saying. nekhludoff, sitting by the inspector's side, looked round with strained curiosity. a little boy with closely-cropped hair came up to him and addressed him in a thin little voice.

"and whom are you waiting for?"

nekhludoff was surprised at the question, but looking at the boy, and seeing the serious little face with its bright, attentive eyes fixed on him, answered him seriously that he was waiting for a woman of his acquaintance.

"is she, then, your sister?" the boy asked.

"no, not my sister," nekhludoff answered in surprise.

"and with whom are you here?" he inquired of the boy.

"i? with mamma; she is a political one," he replied.

"mary pavlovna, take kolia!" said the inspector, evidently considering nekhludoff's conversation with the boy illegal.

mary pavlovna, the beautiful girl who had attracted nekhludoff's attention, rose tall and erect, and with firm, almost manly steps, approached nekhludoff and the boy.

"what is he asking you? who you are?" she inquired with a slight smile, and looking straight into his face with a trustful look in her kind, prominent eyes, and as simply as if there could be no doubt whatever that she was and must be on sisterly terms with everybody.

"he likes to know everything," she said, looking at the boy with so sweet and kind a smile that both the boy and nekhludoff were obliged to smile back.

"he was asking me whom i have come to see."

"mary pavlovna, it is against the rules to speak to strangers. you know it is," said the inspector.

"all right, all right," she said, and went back to the consumptive lad's mother, holding kolia's little hand in her large, white one, while he continued gazing up into her face.

"whose is this little boy?" nekhludoff asked of the inspector.

"his mother is a political prisoner, and he was born in prison," said the inspector, in a pleased tone, as if glad to point out how exceptional his establishment was.

"is it possible?"

"yes, and now he is going to siberia with her."

"and that young girl?"

"i cannot answer your question," said the inspector, shrugging his shoulders. "besides, here is doukhova."

办公室共有两间。第一间里有一个炉膛凸出、灰泥剥落的大炉子和两扇肮脏的窗子。屋角立着一管给犯人量身高的黑尺，另一个角落挂着一幅巨大的基督像，——凡是折磨人的地方总有这种像，仿佛是对基督教义的嘲弄。这个房间里站着几个看守。另一个房间里靠墙坐着二十来个男女，有的几人一起，有的两人一对，低声交谈着。窗口放着一张写字台。

典狱长坐在写字台旁，请聂赫留朵夫在旁边一把椅子上坐下。聂赫留朵夫坐下来，开始打量屋里的人。

首先吸引他注意的是一个相貌好看的穿短上装青年。那青年站在一个上了年纪的黑眉毛女人面前，情绪激动地对她说着话，比着手势。旁边坐着一个戴蓝眼镜的老人，拉住一个穿囚衣的年轻女人的手，一动不动地听她对他讲着什么事。一个念实科中学的男孩，脸上现出惊惧的神色，眼睛一直盯住那个老人。离他们不远的角落里坐着一对情人。女的是个年纪很轻的姑娘，留着淡黄短头发，模样可爱，容光焕发，身穿一件时髦连衣裙。男的是个漂亮的小伙子，生得眉清目秀，头发鬈曲，身穿橡胶短上衣。他们两人坐在屋角喁喁私语，显然陶醉在爱情里。最靠近写字台的地方坐着一个头发花白的女人，身穿黑色连衣裙，看样子是个母亲。她睁大一双眼睛，瞅着一个也穿橡胶上衣、样子象害痨病的青年。她想说话，可是喉咙被哽住，刚开口，就说不下去。那青年手里拿着一张纸，显然不知道该怎么办，只怒气冲冲地不住折叠和揉搓那张纸。他们旁边坐着一个身材丰满、脸色红润的姑娘，相貌好看，但生着一双暴眼睛，身穿灰色连衣裙，外加一件短披肩。她坐在哀哀哭泣的母亲旁边，温柔地摩挲着她的肩膀。这个姑娘身上什么都美：那白净的大手，鬈曲的短发，线条清楚的鼻子和嘴唇。不过她脸上最迷人的却是那双诚挚善良象绵羊一般的深褐色眼睛。聂赫留朵夫一进去，她那双好看的眼睛就从母亲的脸上移开，同他的目光相遇。但她立刻又扭过头去，对母亲说了些什么。离开那对情人不远的地方坐着一个皮肤黝黑的男人。他头发蓬乱，脸色阴沉，正气愤地对一个象是阉割派教徒的没有胡子的探监人说话。聂赫留朵夫坐在典狱长旁边，怀着强烈的好奇心观察着周围的一切。忽然有个剃光头的男孩走到他跟前，尖声问他说：

“您在等谁？”

聂赫留朵夫听到这话感到惊奇，他对男孩瞧了一眼，看见他脸色严肃老成，眼睛活泼有神，就一本正经地回答说在等一个熟识的女人。

“怎么，她是您的妹妹吗？”男孩子问。

“不，不是妹妹，”聂赫留朵夫奇怪地回答。“那么，你是跟谁一起到这儿来的？”他问那孩子。

“我跟妈妈在一起。她是政治犯，”男孩骄傲地说。

“玛丽雅·巴夫洛夫娜，您把柯里亚带去，”典狱长说，大概觉得聂赫留朵夫同男孩谈话是违法的。

玛丽雅·巴夫洛夫娜就是引起聂赫留朵夫注意的那个生有一双绵羊眼睛的好看姑娘。她站起来，挺直高高的身子，迈着象男人一样有力的大步，向聂赫留朵夫和男孩走去。

“他问了您什么话？您是谁呀？”她问聂赫留朵夫，微微笑着，信任地瞧着他的眼睛，神气那么坦率，看来她一定对谁都是这样朴实、亲切和友好。“他什么事都想知道，”她说，对着男孩露出和蔼可亲的微笑，男孩和聂赫留朵夫看见她的微笑也都忍不住笑了。

“是的，他问我来找谁。”

“玛丽雅·巴夫洛夫娜，不准跟外面人说话。这一点您是知道的，”典狱长说。

“好的，好的，”她说，用她白净的大手拉着一直盯住他看的柯里亚的小手，回到那个害痨病青年的母亲身边。

“这是谁家的孩子啊？”聂赫留朵夫问典狱长。

“一个女政治犯的孩子，是在牢里生下的，”典狱长带点得意的口气说，似乎这是监狱里少见的奇迹。

“真的吗？”

“真的，他不久就要跟他母亲到西伯利亚去了。”

“那么这个姑娘呢？”

“我不能回答您的问题，”典狱长耸耸肩膀说。“喏，薇拉来了。”