“Yes; they made us go away, otherwise we should have met. The day before yesterday they all came to see me.” “Who came?” “Why, Mariashka, Khavroshka, Tchekunda, Dougrochva” (the woman of four kopecks). “What,” I said to Akimitch, “is it possible that----?” “Yes; it happens sometimes,” he replied, lowering his eyes, for he was a very proper man. Yes; it happened sometimes, but rarely, and with unheard of difficulties. The convicts preferred to spend their money in drink. It was very difficult to meet these women. It was necessary to come to an agreement about the place, and the time; to arrange a meeting, to find solitude, and, what was most difficult of all, to avoid the escorts--almost an impossibility--and to spend relatively prodigious sums. I have sometimes, however, witnessed love scenes. One day three of us were heating a brick-kiln on the banks of the Irtitch. The soldiers of the escort were good-natured fellows. Two “blowers” (they were so-called) soon appeared. “Where were you staying so long?” said a prisoner to them, who had evidently been expecting them. “Was it at the Zvierkoffs that you were detained?” “At the Zvierkoffs? It will be fine weather, and the fowls will have teeth, when I go to see them,” replied one of the women. She was the dirtiest woman imaginable. She was called Tchekunda, and had arrived in company with her friend, the “four kopecks,” who was beneath all description. “It’s a long time since we have seen anything of you,” says the gallant to her of the four kopecks; “you seem to have grown thinner.” “Perhaps; formerly I was good-looking and plump, whereas now one might fancy I had swallowed eels.” “And you still run after the soldiers, is that so?” “All calumny on the part of wicked people; and after all, if I was to be flogged to death for it, I like soldiers.” “Never mind your soldiers, we’re the people to love; we have money.” Imagine this gallant with his shaved crown, with fetters on his ankles, dressed in a coat of two colours, and watched by an escort. As I was now returning to the prison, my irons had been put on. I wished Akimitch good-bye and went away, escorted by a soldier. Those who do task work return first, and, when I got back to the barracks, a good number of convicts were already there. As the kitchen could not have held the whole barrack-full at once, we did not all dine together. Those who came in first were first served. I tasted the cabbage soup, but, not being used to it, could not eat it, and I prepared myself some tea. I sat down at one end of the table, with a convict of noble birth like myself. The prisoners were going in and out. There was no want of room, for there were not many of them. Five of them sat down apart from the large table. The cook gave them each two ladles full of soup, and brought them a plate of fried fish. These men were having a holiday. They looked at us in a friendly manner. One of the Poles came in and took his seat by our side.