"Fedotoff, have Maslova, cell 5, women's ward, taken to the office."
"Will you come this way, please," he said, turning to Nekhludoff.
They ascended a steep staircase and entered a little room with one window, a writing-table, and a few chairs in it. The inspector sat down.
"Mine are heavy, heavy duties," he remarked, again addressing Nekhludoff, and took out a cigarette.
"You are tired, evidently," said Nekhludoff.
Tired of the whole of the service--the duties are very trying.
One tries to lighten their lot and only makes it worse; my only thought is how to get away. Heavy, heavy duties!"
Nekhludoff did not know what the inspector's particular difficulties were, but he saw that to-day he was in a peculiarly dejected and hopeless condition, calling for pity."
"Yes, I should think the duties were heavy for a kind-hearted man," he said. "Why do you serve in this capacity?
"I have a family."
"But, if it is so hard--"
"Well, still you know it is possible to be of use in some measure; I soften down all I can. Another in my place would conduct the affairs quite differently. Why, we have more than 2,000 persons here. And what persons! One must know how to manage them. It is easier said than done, you know. After all, they are also men; one cannot help pitying them." The inspector began telling Nekhludoff of a fight that had lately taken place among the convicts, which had ended by one man being killed.
The story was interrupted by the entrance of Maslova, who was accompanied by a jailer.
Nekhludoff saw her through the doorway before she had noticed the inspector. She was following the warder briskly, smiling and tossing her head. When she saw the inspector she suddenly changed, and gazed at him with a frightened look; but, quickly recovering, she addressed Nekhludoff boldly and gaily.