"Possibly; but not for you!" she said, without moving or changing her rather indiscreet attitude.
Jakoff sighed.
In front of them stretched, beneath the morning rays of the sun, the boundless sea. Little playful waves, born of the breath of the wind, washed softly against the boat. Far away, in the distance, the cape stretched out into the sea. At its extreme end, against the soft blue of the sky could be seen a slender, tall mast, at the top of which fluttered a red rag.
"Yes, my lad," continued Malva, without looking at Jakoff; "I may be tempting, but not for you.... And let me tell you, no one has bought me, I am not the property of your father. I live for myself. So it's no use running after me, because I don't intend to come between you and Vassili.... I don't want quarrels or wrangling of any sort ... Do you understand?"
"But what have I done?" asked Jakoff, surprised. "I don't touch you; I'm not running after you."
"You don't dare to touch me!" said Malva.
She spoke so disdainfully that the man, the human male within him, seemed in revolt A feeling of almost wicked defiance seized him, and his eyes flashed.
"Oh! I don't dare?... don't I?" he cried, going nearer to her.
"No, you don't dare!"
"And if I touch you?"