The ResurrectionNekhludoff had been waiting for a long time in the vestibule. Arriving at the prison he rang the front-door bell and handed his pass to the warden on duty. "What do you want?" "I wish to see the prisoner Maslova." "Can't see her now; the inspector is busy." "In the office?" asked Nekhludoff. "No, here in the visitors' room," the warden answered, somewhat embarrassed, as it seemed to Nekhludoff. "Why, are visitors admitted to-day?" "No—special business," he answered. "Where can I see him, then?" "He will come out presently. Wait." At that moment a sergeant-major in bright crown-laced uniform, his face radiant, and his mustache impregnated with smoke, appeared from a side door. "Why did you admit him here? What is the office for?" he said sternly, turning to the warden. "I was told that the inspector was here," said Nekhludoff, surprised at the embarrassment noticeabl...