“How much?” asked the old woman abruptly. “A quart.”
“Go, my own, draw some for them,” said Granny Ulítka to her daughter. “Take it from the cask that’s begun, my precious.”
The girl took the keys and a decanter and went out of the hut with Vanyúsha.
“Tell me, who is that young woman?” asked Olénin, pointing to Maryánka, who was passing the window. The old man winked and nudged the young man with his elbow.
“Wait a bit,” said he and reached out of the window. “Khm,” he coughed, and bellowed, “Maryánka dear. Hallo, Maryánka, my girlie, won’t you love me, darling? I’m a wag,” he added in a whisper to Olénin. The girl, not turning her head and swinging her arms regularly and vigorously, passed the window with the peculiarly smart and bold gait of a Cossack woman and only turned her dark shaded eyes slowly towards the old man.
“Love me and you’ll be happy,” shouted Eróshka, winking, and he looked questioningly at the cadet.
“I’m a fine fellow, I’m a wag!” he added. “She’s a regular queen, that girl. Eh?”
“She is lovely,” said Olénin. “Call her here!”
“No, no,” said the old man. “For that one a match is being arranged with Lukáshka, Luke, a fine Cossack, a brave, who killed an abrek the other day. I’ll find you a better one. I’ll find you one that will be all dressed up in silk and silver. Once I’ve said it I’ll do it. I’ll get you a regular beauty!”
“You, an old man—and say such things,” replied Olénin. “Why, it’s a sin!”