The question of the relations of the sexes he also looked upon as thoroughly solved by accepting free union.
He had one nominal and one real wife, from both of whom he was separated, having come to the conclusion that there was no real love between them, and now he thought of entering on a free union with Grabetz.
He despised Nekhludoff for "playing the fool," as Novodvoroff termed it, with Maslova, but especially for the freedom Nekhludoff took of considering the defects of the existing system and the methods of correcting those defects in a manner which was not only not exactly the same as Novodvoroff's, but was Nekhludoff's own—a prince's, that is, a fool's manner.
Nekhludoff felt this relation of Novodvoroff's towards him, and knew to his sorrow that in spite of the state of good will in which he found himself on this journey he could not help paying this man in his own coin, and could not stifle the strong antipathy he felt for him.
CHAPTER XVI. SIMONSON SPEAKS TO NEKHLUDOFF.
The voices of officials sounded from the next room.
All the prisoners were silent, and a sergeant, followed by two convoy soldiers, entered.
The time of the inspection had come.
The sergeant counted every one, and when Nekhludoff's turn came he addressed him with kindly familiarity.
"You must not stay any longer, Prince, after the inspection; you must go now."
Nekhludoff knew what this meant, went up to the sergeant and shoved a three-rouble note into his hand.
"Ah, well, what is one to do with you; stay a bit longer, if you like."
The sergeant was about to go when another sergeant, followed by a convict, a spare man with a thin beard and a bruise under his eye, came in.
"It's about the girl I have come," said the convict.
"Here's daddy come," came the ringing accents of a child's voice, and a flaxen head appeared from behind Rintzeva, who, with Katusha's and Mary Pavlovna's help, was making a new garment for the child out of one of Rintzeva's own petticoats.
"Yes, daughter, it's me," Bousovkin, the prisoner, said softly.
"She is quite comfortable here," said Mary Pavlovna, looking with pity at Bousovkin's bruised face. "Leave her with us."
"The ladies are making me new clothes," said the girl, pointing to Rintzeva's sewing—"nice red ones," she went on, prattling.
"Do you wish to sleep with us?" asked Rintzeva, caressing the child.
"Yes, I wish.
And daddy, too."
"No, daddy can't. Well, leave her then," she said, turning to the father.
"Yes, you may leave her," said the first sergeant, and went out with the other.
As soon as they were out of the room Nabatoff went up to Bousovkin, slapped him on the shoulder, and said:
"I say, old fellow, is it true that Karmanoff wishes to exchange?"
Bousovkin's kindly, gentle face turned suddenly sad and a veil seemed to dim his eyes.
"We have heard nothing—hardly," he said, and with the same dimness still over his eyes he turned to the child. "Well, Aksutka, it seems you're to make yourself comfortable with the ladies," and he hurried away.
"It's true about the exchange, and he knows it very well," said Nabatoff. "What are you going to do?"
"I shall tell the authorities in the next town.
I know both prisoners by sight," said Nekhludoff.
All were silent, fearing a recommencement of the dispute.
Simonson, who had been lying with his arms thrown back behind his head, and not speaking, rose, and determinately walked up to Nekhludoff, carefully passing round those who were sitting.
"Could you listen to me now?"
"Of course," and Nekhludoff rose and followed him.
Katusha looked up with an expression of suspense, and meeting Nekhludoff's eyes, she blushed and shook her head.
"What I want to speak to you about is this," Simonson began, when they had come out into the passage.
In the passage the din of the criminal's voices and shouts sounded louder.
Nekhludoff made a face, but Simonson did not seem to take any notice. "Knowing of your relations to Katerina Maslova," he began seriously and frankly, with his kind eyes looking straight into Nekhludoff's face, "I consider it my duty"—He was obliged to stop because two voices were heard disputing and shouting, both at once, close to the door.
"I tell you, blockhead, they are not mine," one voice shouted.
"May you choke, you devil," snorted the other.
At this moment Mary Pavlovna came out into the passage.
"How can one talk here?" she said; "go in, Vera is alone there," and she went in at the second door, and entered a tiny room, evidently meant for a solitary cell, which was now placed at the disposal of the political women prisoners, Vera Doukhova lay covered up, head and all, on the bed.
"She has got a headache, and is asleep, so she cannot hear you, and I will go away," said Mary Pavlovna.
"On the contrary, stay here," said Simonson; "I have no secrets from any one, certainly none from you."
"All right," said Mary Pavlovna, and moving her whole body from side to side, like a child, so as to get farther back on to the bed, she settled down to listen, her beautiful hazel eyes seeming to look somewhere far away.
"Well, then, this is my business," Simonson repeated. "Knowing of your relations to Katerina Maslova, I consider myself bound to explain to you my relations to her."
Nekhludoff could not help admiring the simplicity and truthfulness with which Simonson spoke to him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I should like to marry Katerina Maslova—"
"How strange!" said Mary Pavlovna, fixing her eyes on Simonson.
"—And so I made up my mind to ask her to be my wife," Simonson continued.