Book 1 Chapter 51 The Cells

Nekhludoff refused.

"What I want is to see Maslova."

"Oh, yes, that can be managed. Now, then, what do you want?" he
said, addressing a little girl of five or six, who came into the
room and walked up to her father with her head turned towards
Nekhludoff, and her eyes fixed on him.

"There, now, you'll fall down," said the inspector, smiling, as
the little girl ran up to him, and, not looking where she was
going, caught her foot in a little rug.

"Well, then, if I may, I shall go."

"It's not very convenient to see Maslova to-day," said the
inspector.

"How's that?"

"Well, you know, it's all your own fault," said the inspector,
with a slight smile. "Prince, give her no money into her hands.
If you like, give it me. I will keep it for her. You see, you
gave her some money yesterday; she got some spirits (it's an evil
we cannot manage to root out), and to-day she is quite tipsy,
even violent."

"Can this be true?"

"Oh, yes, it is. I have even been obliged to have recourse to
severe measures, and to put her into a separate cell. She is a
quiet woman in an ordinary way. But please do not give her any
money. These people are so--" What had happened the day before
came vividly back to Nekhludoff's mind, and again he was seized
with fear.

"And Doukhova, a political prisoner; might I see her?"

"Yes, if you like," said the inspector. He embraced the little
girl, who was still looking at Nekhludoff, got up, and, tenderly
motioning her aside, went into the ante-room. Hardly had he got
into the overcoat which the maid helped him to put on, and before
he had reached the door, the distinct sounds of Clementi's
roulades again began.