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entrance compartment； and questioned the old man and woman。 The old
man had been a master…printer； but now had no means of livelihood。
The woman was the wife of a cook。 I went to the third compartment；
and questioned the woman in the blouse about the sleeping man。 She
said that he was a visitor。 I asked the woman who she was。 She
replied that she was a Moscow peasant。 〃What is your business？〃 She
burst into a laugh； and did not answer me。 〃What do you live on？〃 I
repeated； thinking that she had not understood my question。 〃I sit
in the taverns；〃 she said。 I did not comprehend； and again I
inquired： 〃What is your means of livelihood？〃 She made no reply and
laughed。 Women's voices in the fourth compartment which we had not
yet entered； joined in the laugh。 The landlord emerged from his
cabin and stepped up to us。 He had evidently heard my questions and
the woman's replies。 He cast a stern glance at the woman and turned
to me： 〃She is a prostitute；〃 said he； apparently pleased that he
knew the word in use in the language of the authorities； and that he
could pronounce it correctly。 And having said this； with a
respectful and barely perceptible smile of satisfaction addressed to
me； he turned to the woman。 And no sooner had he turned to her； than
his whole face altered。 He said； in a peculiar； scornful； hasty
tone； such as is employed towards dogs： 〃What do you jabber in that
careless way for？ 'I sit in the taverns。' You do sit in the
taverns； and that means； to talk business； that you are a
prostitute；〃 and again he uttered the word。 〃She does not know the
name for herself。〃 This tone offended me。 〃It is not our place to
abuse her；〃 said I。 〃If all of us lived according to the laws of
God； there would be none of these women。〃
〃That's the very point；〃 said the landlord； with an awkward smile。
〃Therefore； we should not reproach but pity them。 Are they to
blame？〃
I do not recollect just what I said； but I do remember that I was
vexed by the scornful tone of the landlord of these quarters which
were filled with women； whom he called prostitutes； and that I felt
compassion for this woman； and that I gave expression to both
feelings。 No sooner had I spoken thus； than the boards of the bed in
the next compartment； whence the laugh had proceeded； began to creak；
and above the partition； which did not reach to the ceiling； there
appeared a woman's curly and dishevelled head； with small； swollen
eyes； and a shining； red face； followed by a second； and then by a
third。 They were evidently standing on their beds； and all three
were craning their necks； and holding their breath with strained
attention； and gazing silently at us。
A troubled pause ensued。 The student； who had been smiling up to
this time； became serious； the landlord grew confused and dropped his
eyes。 All the women held their breath； stared at me； and waited。 I
was more embarrassed than any of them。 I had not； in the least；
anticipated that a chance remark would produce such an effect。 Like
Ezekiel's field of death； strewn with dead men's bones； there was a
quiver at the touch of the spirit； and the dead bones stirred。 I had
uttered an unpremeditated word of love and sympathy； and this word
had acted on all as though they had only been waiting for this very
remark； in order that they might cease to be corpses and might live。
They all stared at me； and waited for what would come next。 They
waited for me to utter those words； and to perform those actions by
reason of which these bones might draw together； clothe themselves
with flesh； and spring into life。 But I felt that I had no such
words； no such actions； by means of which I could continue what I had
begun； I was conscious； in the depths of my soul； that I had lied
＇that I was just like them＇； ｛9｝ and there was nothing further for me
to say； and I began to inscribe on the cards the names and callings
of all the persons in this set of apartments。
This incident led me into a fresh dilemma； to the thought of how
these unfortunates also might be helped。 In my self…delusion； I
fancied that this would be very easy。 I said to myself： 〃Here； we
will make a note of all these women also； and LATER ON when we ＇I did
not specify to myself who 〃we〃 were＇ write every thing out； we will
attend to these persons too。〃 I imagined that we； the very ones who
have brought and have been bringing these women to this condition for
several generations； would take thought some fine day and reform all
this。 But； in the mean time； if I had only recalled my conversation
with the disreputable woman who had been rocking the baby of the
fever…stricken patient； I might have comprehended the full extent of
the folly of such a supposition。
When we saw this woman with the baby； we thought that it was her
child。 To the question； 〃Who was she？〃 she had replied in a
straightforward way that she was unmarried。 She did not saya
prostitute。 Only the master of the apartment made use of that
frightful word。 The supposition that she had a child suggested to me
the idea of removing her from her position。 I inquired：
〃Is this your child？〃
〃No； it belongs to that woman yonder。〃
〃Why are you taking care of it？〃
〃Because she asked me； she is dying。〃
Although my supposition proved to be erroneous； I continued my
conversation with her in the same spirit。 I began to question her as
to who she was； and how she had come to such a state。 She related
her history very readily and simply。 She was a Moscow myeshchanka；
the daughter of a factory hand。 She had been left an orphan； and had
been adopted by an aunt。 From her aunt's she had begun to frequent
the taverns。 The aunt was now dead。 When I asked her whether she
did not wish to alter her mode of life； my question； evidently； did
not even arouse her interest。 How can one take an interest in the
proposition of a man； in regard to something absolutely impossible？
She laughed； and said： 〃And who would take me in with my yellow
ticket？〃
〃Well； but if a place could be found somewhere as cook？〃 said I。
This thought occurred to me because she was a stout； ruddy woman；
with a kindly； round； and rather stupid face。 Cooks are often like
that。 My words evidently did not please her。 She repeated：
〃A cookbut I don't know how to make bread；〃 said she； and she
laughed。 She said that she did not know how； but I saw from the
expression of her countenance that she did not wish to become a cook；
that she regarded the position and calling of a cook as low。
This woman； who in the simplest possible manner was sacrificing every
thing that she had for the sick woman； like the widow in the Gospels；
at the same time； like many of her companions； regarded the position
of a person who works as low and deserving of scorn。 She had been
brought up to live not by work； but by this life which was considered
the natural one for her by those about her。 In that lay her
misfortune。 And she fell in with this misfortune and clung to her
position。 This led her to frequent the taverns。 Which of usman or
womanwill correct her false view of life？ Where among us are the
pe