"If he does go away you and I'll have to stay," said Korableva,
turning to Maslova, "but you'd better tell us now what the
advocate says about petitioning. Now's the time to hand it in."
Maslova answered that she knew nothing about it.
At that moment the red-haired woman came up to the "aristocracy"
with both freckled hands in her thick hair, scratching her head
with her nails.
"I'll tell you all about it, Katerina," she began. "First and
foremost, you'll have to write down you're dissatisfied with the
sentence, then give notice to the Procureur."
"What do you want here?" said Korableva angrily; "smell the
vodka, do you? Your chatter's not wanted. We know what to do
without your advice."
"No one's speaking to you; what do you stick your nose in for?"
"It's vodka you want; that's why you come wriggling yourself in
here."
"Well, offer her some," said Maslova, always ready to share
anything she possessed with anybody.
"I'll offer her something."
"Come on then," said the red-haired one, advancing towards
Korableva. "Ah! think I'm afraid of such as you?"
"Convict fright!"
"That's her as says it."
"Slut!"
"I? A slut? Convict! Murderess!" screamed the red-haired one.
"Go away, I tell you," said Korableva gloomily, but the
red-haired one came nearer and Korableva struck her in the chest.
The red-haired woman seemed only to have waited for this, and
with a sudden movement caught hold of Korableva's hair with one
hand and with the other struck her in the face. Korableva seized
this hand, and Maslova and Khoroshavka caught the red-haired
woman by her arms, trying to pull her away, but she let go the
old woman's hair with her hand only to twist it round her fist.
Korableva, with her head bent to one side, was dealing out blows
with one arm and trying to catch the red-haired woman's hand with
her teeth, while the rest of the women crowded round, screaming
and trying to separate the fighters; even the consumptive one
came up and stood coughing and watching the fight. The children
cried and huddled together. The noise brought the woman warder
and a jailer. The fighting women were separated; and Korableva,
taking out the bits of torn hair from her head, and the
red-haired one, holding her torn chemise together over her yellow
breast, began loudly to complain.
"I know, it's all the vodka. Wait a bit; I'll tell the inspector
tomorrow. He'll give it you. Can't I smell it? Mind, get it all
out of the way, or it will be the worse for you," said the
warder. "We've no time to settle your disputes. Get to your
places and be quiet."
But quiet was not soon re-established. For a long time the women
went on disputing and explaining to one another whose fault it
all was. At last the warder and the jailer left the cell, the
women grew quieter and began going to bed, and the old woman went
to the icon and commenced praying.