“Good gracious! how could she pine away from home-sickness? From the fortress she could see the very same hills as she could from the village—and these savages require nothing more. Besides, Grigori Aleksandrovich used to give her a present of some kind every day. At first she didn’t utter a word, but haughtily thrust away the gifts, which then fell to the lot of the dukhan-keeper’s wife and aroused her eloquence. Ah, presents! What won’t a woman do for a coloured rag!... But that is by the way... For a long time Grigori Aleksandrovich persevered with her, and meanwhile he studied the Tartar language and she began to understand ours. Little by little she grew accustomed to looking at him, at first furtively, askance; but she still pined and crooned her songs in an undertone, so that even I would feel heavy at heart when I heard her from the next room. One scene I shall never forget: I was walking past, and I looked in at the window; Bela was sitting on the stove-couch, her head sunk on her breast, and Grigori Aleksandrovich was standing, facing her.
“‘Listen, my Peri,’ he was saying. ‘Surely you know that you will have to be mine sooner or later—why, then, do you but torture me? Is it that you are in love with some Chechene? If so, I will let you go home at once.’
“She gave a scarcely perceptible start and shook her head.
“‘Or is it,’ he continued, ‘that I am utterly hateful to you?’
“She heaved a sigh.
“‘Or that your faith prohibits you from giving me a little of your love?’
“She turned pale and remained silent.
“‘Believe me, Allah is one and the same for all races; and, if he permits me to love you, why, then, should he prohibit you from requiting me by returning my love?’
“She gazed fixedly into his face, as though struck by that new idea. Distrust and a desire to be convinced were expressed in her eyes. What eyes they were! They sparkled just like two glowing coals.
“‘Listen, my dear, good Bela!’ continued Pechorin. ‘You see how I love you. I am ready to give up everything to make you cheerful once more. I want you to be happy, and, if you are going to be sad again, I shall die. Tell me, you will be more cheerful?’