Peredonov looked at Marta, screwed up one eye and said:
"You've got a lot of freckles. That's not pretty."
"What can one do?" asked Marta, smiling.
"I've got freckles too," said Vladya, turning round on his narrow seat and brushing against the silent Ignaty.
"You're a boy," said Peredonov, "and so it doesn't matter. A man needn't be handsome; but it doesn't become a girl," he went on, turning to Marta. "No one will want to marry you. You ought to bathe your face in cucumber-brine."
Marta thanked him for his advice.
Vladya looked smilingly at Peredonov.
"What are you grinning at?" said Peredonov. "Just wait till we're there—then you'll get what's waiting for you."
Vladya, shifting in his seat, looked attentively at Peredonov and tried to find out if he were joking or speaking seriously. But Peredonov could not bear to have anyone stare at him.
"What are you eyeing me for?" he asked harshly. "There are no patterns on me. Are you trying to cast a spell on me?"