"Silly!" said Pashka, without raising his head.
Jakov put his arms round the little one and drew her close to him, while Ilya moved nearer to Pashka and asked him gently:
"Does it hurt you?"
"What's that to do with you?" answered Pashka, crossly.
All the children looked at him silently.
"She was always idling about," said Mashka's clear voice, but Jakov interrupted her uneasily.
"Idling? But think what the smith was like, always so cross and grumbling, enough to make any one afraid, and she so lively, like Perfishka—it was dull for her with the smith."
Pashka looked at him and spoke solemnly and gloomily like a grown-up person.
"I always said to her, 'Mother,' I said, 'look out for yourself, he'll kill you,' but she wouldn't listen. She always told me not to say anything to him. She bought me sweets and things, and the sergeant gave me five kopecks every time—every time I took him a letter from her—I got five kopecks. He's a good fellow, and so strong, and he's got a big moustache."
"Has he a sword?" asked Mashka.