Vassilissa glanced swiftly at him, laughed, turned away, and put her hand over her lips.
‘Going shopping, I suppose?’ queried Ivan Afanasiitch, fidgeting with his feet.
‘How inquisitive we are!’ retorted Vassilissa.
‘Why inquisitive?’ said Pyetushkov, hurriedly gesticulating with his hands. ‘Quite the contrary.... Oh yes, you know,’ he added hastily, as though these last words completely conveyed his meaning.
‘Did you eat my roll?’
‘To be sure I did,’ replied Pyetushkov: ‘with special enjoyment.’
Vassilissa continued to walk on and to laugh.
‘It’s pleasant weather to-day,’ pursued Ivan Afanasiitch: ‘do you often go out walking?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ah, how I should like....’