She looked at him curiously, but without fear, as she drew back a little.
“Who are you?” she said severely. “And why do you climb on to other people’s fences.”
“What can it matter to you who I am. I can easily tell you why I climb on other people’s fences. It is to eat apples.”
“Aren’t you ashamed to take other people’s apples?” she asked.
“They are my apples, not theirs; they have been stolen from me. You certainly have not read Proudhon. But how beautiful you are!” he added in amazement. “Do you know what Proudhon says?” he concluded.
“La propriété c’est le vol.”
“Ah, you have read Proudhon.” He stared at her, and as she shook her head, he continued, “Anyway, you have heard it. Indeed, this divine truth has gone all round the world nowadays. I have a copy of Proudhon, and will bring it to you.”
“You are not a boy, and yet you steal apples. You think it is not theft to do so because of that saying of Proudhon’s.”
“You believe, then, everything that was told you at school? But please tell me who you are. This is the Berezhkovs’ garden. They tell me the old lady has two beautiful nieces.”
“I too say what can it matter to you who I am?”