With such a view of life, she was by no means the lowest, but a

very important person. And Maslova prized this view of life more

than anything; she could not but prize it, for, if she lost the

importance that such a view of life gave her among men, she would

lose the meaning of her life. And, in order not to lose the

meaning of her life, she instinctively clung to the set that

looked at life in the same way as she did. Feeling that

Nekhludoff wanted to lead her out into another world, she

resisted him, foreseeing that she would have to lose her place in

life, with the self-possession and self-respect it gave her. For

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this reason she drove from her the recollections of her early

youth and her first relations with Nekhludoff. These

recollections did not correspond with her present conception of

the world, and were therefore quite rubbed out of her mind, or,

rather, lay somewhere buried and untouched, closed up and

plastered over so that they should not escape, as when bees, in

order to protect the result of their labour, will sometimes

plaster a nest of worms. Therefore, the present Nekhludoff was

not the man she had once loved with a pure love, but only a rich

gentleman whom she could, and must, make use of, and with whom

she could only have the same relations as with men in general.

"No, I could not tell her the chief thing," thought Nekhludoff,

moving towards the front doors with the rest of the people. "I

did not tell her that I would marry her; I did not tell her so,

but I will," he thought.

The two warders at the door let out the visitors, counting them

again, and touching each one with their hands, so that no extra

person should go out, and none remain within. The slap on his

shoulder did not offend Nekhludoff this time; he did not even

notice it.




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