"No, I am not joking. Do you know, I love these rocks, this wild, picturesque spot, where every pathway, every stone awakens in me so many feelings and thoughts that have nothing in common with my dull, grey, everyday life.... And whenever I was here before, I always thought how beautiful it would be to come with some charming, poetical creature—in fact, to come as I have come to-day. And when I go home I shall say, 'Now let thy servant depart in peace!'" ...
The idea passed through Mimotchka's head: "Is he going to allow himself to?" ... But no, he had already begun talking again about the horses. Then they were both silent. They had to get down below by a steep, narrow path. Osman rode on in front, to show the way.
It had got dark. The moon had not yet made her appearance.
"This doesn't look much like a moonlight night. You said there would be a moon."
"Wait a little, only wait. There will be a moon."
"But we shan't see anything down there."
Mimotchka began to get alarmed at the darkness.
"Why shan't we see anything? Don't you see the rocks? How beautiful that pass is! And the moon will come out directly."
"Yes, but while we are waiting for the moon it will get late, and when shall we get back?"