He reached for her. She cleverly turned aside, bending her beautiful form, while the other women, laughing and spitting, ran out of the hut.
“W-what a priest,” said a thin woman with childishly open eyes. She was in evident terror. “T-teacher!”
“Yes, he’ll teach us.”
“Teach us,” laughed a soldier’s wife, coming forward and resting her cheek on her fat hand. “Teach us something easy and sweet.”
“Yes! We’ll sigh for you.”
“I’ll teach you. What is your name, beauty?”
“I’m called what I’m called and nicknamed Gray Duck. What do you want?”
“You, Gray Duck. Give us some vodka,—heavens, they’ll pay up.”
“Get what? We’ll get it.”
She looked at me questioningly and cunningly.