He removed his elbow from the desk, and began to make notes. In reality, instead of making notes, he merely drew lines across his notes, having seen prosecutors and attorneys, after an adroit question, making memoranda of questions which were to crush their opponents. The justiciary did not turn immediately to the prisoner, because he was at the moment asking his associate in the eye-glasses whether he consented to the questions previously outlined and committed to writing. "What followed?" the justiciary continued. "I came home," Maslova continued, looking somewhat bolder, "and went to sleep. As soon as I was asleep our girl, Bertha, came and woke me. 'Your merchant is here again. Wake up.' Then he"--again she pronounced it with evident horror--"he wished to send for wine, but was short of money. Then he sent me to the hotel, telling me where the money was and how much to take, and I went." The justiciary was whispering at the time to his associate on the left, and did not listen to Maslova, but to make it appear that he had heard everything he repeated her last words. "And you went. Well, what else?" he asked. "I came there and did as he told me. I went to his room. I did not enter it alone, but called Simon Michaelovich and her," she said, pointing to Bochkova. "She lies; I never entered----" Bochkova began, but she was stopped. "In their presence I took four ten ruble bills," she continued. "And while taking this money, did the prisoner see how much money there was?" asked the prosecutor. Maslova shuddered as soon as the prosecutor began to speak. She could not tell why, but she felt that he was her enemy. "I did not count it, but I saw that it was all hundred ruble bills." "The prisoner saw hundred ruble bills. I have no other questions." "Well, did you bring back the money?" asked the justiciary, looking at the clock. "I did." "Well, what then?" "Then he again took me with him," said Maslova. "And how did you give him the powder in the wine?" asked the justiciary. "How? Poured it into the wine and gave it to him." "Why did you give it to him?" Without answering, she sighed deeply. After a short silence she said: "He would not let me go. He exhausted me. I went into the corridor and said to Simon Michaelovich: 'If he would only let me go; I am so tired.' And Simon Michaelovich said: 'We are also tired of him. We intend to give him sleeping powders. When he is asleep you can go.' 'All right,' I said. I thought that it was a harmless powder. He gave me a package. I entered. He lay behind the partition, and ordered me to bring him some brandy. I took from the table a bottle of feen-champagne, poured into two glasses--for myself and him--threw the powder into his glass and handed it to him. I would not have given it to him if I had known it." "And how did you come by the ring?" asked the justiciary. "He presented it to me." "When did he present it to you?"