be exiled because of their love for their people and the religion of their fathers, as he had done in one of the governments of Poland when he was governor there.  He did not consider it dishonourable, but even thought it a noble, manly and patriotic action.  Nor did he consider it dishonest to rob his wife and sister-in-law, as he had done, but thought it a wise way of arranging his family life.  His family consisted of his commonplace wife, his sister-in-law, whose fortune he had appropriated by selling her estate and putting the money to his account, and his meek, frightened, plain daughter, who lived a lonely, weary life, from which she had lately begun to look for relaxation in evangelicism, attending meetings at Aline’s, and the Countess Katerina Ivanovna.  Wolf’s son, who had grown a beard at the age of 15, and had at that age begun to drink and lead a depraved life, which he continued to do till the age of 20, when he was turned out by his father because he never finished his studies, moved in a low set and made debts which committed the father.  The father had once paid a debt of 250 roubles for his son, then another of 600 roubles, but warned the son that he did it for the last time, and that if the son did not reform he would be turned out of the house and all further intercourse between him and his family would he put a stop to.  The son did not reform, but made a debt of a thousand roubles, and took the liberty of telling his father that life at home was a torment anyhow.  Then Wolf declared to his son that he might go where he pleased—­that he was no son of his any longer.  Since then Wolf pretended he had no son, and no one at home dared speak to him about his son, and Vladimir Vasilievitch Wolf was firmly convinced that he had arranged his family life in the best way.  Wolf stopped pacing up and down his study, and greeted Nekhludoff with a friendly though slightly ironical smile.  This was his way of showing how comme il faut he was, and how superior to the majority of men.  He read the note which Nekhludoff handed to him.

“Please take a seat, and excuse me if I continue to walk up and down, with your permission,” he said, putting his hands into his coat pockets, and began again to walk with light, soft steps across his large, quietly and stylishly furnished study.  “Very pleased to make your acquaintance and of course very glad to do anything that Count Ivan Michaelovitch wishes,” he said, blowing the fragrant blue smoke out of his mouth and removing his cigar carefully so as not to drop the ash.

“I should only like to ask that the case might come on soon, so that if the prisoner has to go to Siberia she might set off early,” said Nekhludoff.

“Yes, yes, with one of the first steamers from Nijni.  I know,” said Wolf, with his patronising smile, always knowing in advance whatever one wanted to tell him.

“What is the prisoner’s name?”

“Maslova.”

Wolf went up to the table and looked at a paper that lay on a piece of cardboard among other business papers.