He was ill at ease alone with Maryanka, but as if purposely to torment himself he went up to her.

‘You’ll be shooting the women with your gun like that,’ said Maryanka.

‘No, I shan’t shoot them.’

They were both silent.

Then after a pause she said: ‘You should help me.’

He took out his knife and began silently to cut off the clusters. He reached from under the leaves low down a thick bunch weighing about three pounds, the grapes of which grew so close that they flattened each other for want of space.

He showed it to Maryanka.

‘Must they all be cut? Isn’t this one too green?’