“Very well; I will do it,” said Nekhludoff, his surprise at her easy manner growing, “but I would like to talk to you about my own affair.  Do you remember what I told you that time?”

“You have spoken so much.  What did you say that time?” she said, continuing to smile and turning her head now to one side, now to the other.

“I said that I came to ask your forgiveness,” he said.

“Oh!  Forgiveness, forgiveness!  That is all nonsense.  You had better——­”

“That I wish to atone for my sin,” continued Nekhludoff, “and to atone not by words but by deed.  I have decided to marry you.”

Her face suddenly showed fright.  Her squinting eyes became fixed, and they looked and did not look at him.

“What is that for?” And she frowned maliciously.

“I feel that before God I must do it.”

“What God, now, are you talking about?  You are not talking to the point.  God?  What God?  Why didn’t you think of God then?” she said, and opening her mouth, stopped short.

Nekhludoff only now smelled a strong odor of liquor and understood the cause of her excitement.

“Be calm,” he said.

“I have nothing to be calm about.  You think I am drunk?  Yes, I am drunk, but I know what I am talking about,” she said quickly, and her face became purple.  “I am a convict, while you are a lord, a prince, and needn’t stay here to soil your hands.  Go to your princesses——­”

“You cannot be too cruel to me; you do not know how I feel,” he said in a low voice, his whole body trembling.  “You cannot imagine how strongly I feel my guilt before you!”

“Feel my guilt,” she mocked him maliciously.  “You did not feel it then, but thrust a hundred rubles in my hands.  ‘That’s your price——­’”

“I know, I know, but what am I to do now?  I have decided not to leave you,” he repeated; “and what I say I will do.”

“And I say that you will not!” she said, and laughed aloud.

“Katinsha!” he began.

“Leave me.  I am a convict, and you are a prince; and you have no business here,” she shrieked, violently releasing her hand from his, her wrath knowing no limit.

“You wish to save yourself through me,” she continued, hastening to pour out all that had accumulated in her soul.  “You have made me the means of your enjoyment in life, and now you wish to make me the means of saving you after death!  You disgust me, as do your eye-glasses and that fat, dirty face of yours.  Go, go away!” she shrieked, energetically springing to her feet.

The warden approached them.

“Don’t you make so much noise!  You know whom——­”

“Please desist,” said Nekhludoff.

“She must not forget herself,” said the warden.

“Please wait a while,” said Nekhludoff.

The warden returned to his seat on the window-sill.

Maslova again seated herself, her eyes downcast and her little hands clutching each other.