corridor to wash. There the red-haired woman again began a

quarrel with a woman from another cell.

"Is it the solitary cell you want?" shouted an old jailer,

slapping the red-haired woman on her bare, fat back, so that it

sounded through the corridor. "You be quiet."

"Lawks! the old one's playful," said the woman, taking his action

"Now, then, be quick; get ready for the mass." Maslova had hardly

time to do her hair and dress when the inspector came with his