The Cossack stepped aside and nearly fell.
“There, they say girls have no strength, and you nearly killed me.”
“Get away, you black pitch, what devil has brought you from the cordon?” said Ústenka, and turning away from him she again burst out laughing. “You were asleep and missed the abrek, didn’t you? Suppose he had done for you it would have been all the better.”
“You’d have howled, I expect,” said Nazárka, laughing.
“Howled! A likely thing.”
“Just look, she doesn’t care. She’d howl, Nazárka, eh? Would she?” said Ergushóv.
Lukáshka all this time had stood silently looking at Maryánka. His gaze evidently confused the girl.
“Well, Maryánka! I hear they’ve quartered one of the chiefs on you?” he said, drawing nearer.
Maryánka, as was her wont, waited before she replied, and slowly raising her eyes looked at the Cossack. Lukáshka’s eyes were laughing as if something special, apart from what was said, was taking place between himself and the girl.
“Yes, it’s all right for them as they have two huts,” replied an old woman on Maryánka’s behalf, “but at Fómushkin’s now they also have one of the chiefs quartered on them and they say one whole corner is packed full with his things, and the family have no room left. Was such a thing ever heard of as that they should turn a whole horde loose in the village?” she said. “And what the plague are they going to do here?”