“Do you think,” said she, “that I have never been to the manor-house? Don’t alarm yourself; I have seen and heard a great many things.... But,” continued she, “if I talk to you, I shall not gather my mushrooms. Go your way, sir, and I will go mine. Pray excuse me.”
And she was about to move off, but Alexei seized hold of her hand.
“What is your name, my dear?”
“Akoulina,” replied Liza, endeavouring to disengage her fingers from his grasp: “but let me go, sir; it is time for me to return home.”
“Well, my friend Akoulina, I will certainly pay a visit to your father, Vassili the blacksmith.”
“What do you say?” replied Liza quickly: “for Heaven’s sake, don’t think of doing such a thing! If it were known at home that I had been talking to a gentleman alone in the wood, I should fare very badly,—my father, Vassili the blacksmith, would beat me to death.”
“But I really must see you again.”
“Well, then, I will come here again some time to gather mushrooms.”
“When?”
“Well, to-morrow, if you wish it.”