‘Give it here.’

Their hands touched. Olenin took her hand, and she looked at him smiling.

‘Are you going to be married soon?’ he asked.

She did not answer, but turned away with a stern look.

‘Do you love Lukashka?’

‘What’s that to you?’

‘I envy him!’

‘Very likely!’ ‘No really. You are so beautiful!’

And he suddenly felt terribly ashamed of having said it, so commonplace did the words seem to him. He flushed, lost control of himself, and seized both her hands.

‘Whatever I am, I’m