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She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and flushed red with the sunset.

Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha….

‘You love nature?’ she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls.

‘Yes… nature… of course…’ muttered Avdey. ‘Of course… a stroll’s pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I’m a soldier, and fine sentiments are not in my line.’

Lutchkov often repeated that he ‘was a soldier.’ A brief silence followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow.

‘How about getting away?’ thought Avdey. ‘What rot it is, though! Come, more pluck!… Marya Sergievna…’ he began, in a fairly resolute voice.

Masha turned to him.

‘Excuse me,’ he began, as though in joke, ‘but let me on my side know what you think of me, whether you feel at all… so to say,… amiably disposed towards my person?’

‘Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!’ Masha said to herself. ‘Do you know, Mr. Lutchkov,’ she answered him with a smile, ‘it’s not always easy to give a direct answer to a direct question.’

‘Still…’

‘But what is it to you?’

‘Oh, really now, I want to know…’

‘But… Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is it true?’ said Masha, with shy curiosity. ‘They do say you have killed more than one man?’

‘It has happened so,’ Avdey responded indifferently, and he stroked his moustaches.

Masha looked intently at him.

‘This hand then…’ she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov’s blood had caught fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young and pretty girl had been moving before his eyes.

‘Marya Sergievna,’ he began again, in a sharp and strange voice, ‘you know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to see you for…. You’ve been so kind…. You tell me, too, at last what I may hope for….’

Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands…. She glanced sideways at Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,’ What nonsense you do talk,’ and gave him the flower.

Avdey seized her hand.

‘And so you love me!’ he cried.

Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the slightest idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she was not even sure herself as yet whether she did care for him, and here he was forestalling her, forcing her to speak out–he must be misunderstanding her then…. This idea flashed quicker than lightning into Masha’s head. She had never expected such a speedy denouement.… Masha, like an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all day: ‘Can it be that Lutchkov cares for me?’ She had dreamed of a delightful evening walk, a respectful and tender dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with him, make the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at parting to kiss her hand… and instead of that…

Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey’s rough moustaches on her cheek….

‘Let us be happy,’ he was whispering: ‘there’s no other happiness on earth!’

Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale all over, stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. Avdey was terribly confused.

‘Excuse me,’ he muttered, approaching her, ‘I didn’t expect really…’

Masha gazed at him, wide-eyed and speechless… A disagreeable smile twisted his lips… patches of red came out on his face….

‘What are you afraid of?’ he went on; ‘it’s no such great matter…. Why, we understand each other… and so….’

Masha did not speak.

‘Come, stop that!… that’s all nonsense! it’s nothing but…’ Lutchkov stretched out his hand to her.

Masha recollected Kister, his ‘take care of yourself,’ and, sinking with terror, in a rather shrill voice screamed, ‘Taniusha!’

From behind a nutbush emerged the round face of her maid…. Avdey was completely disconcerted. Reassured by the presence of her hand-maiden, Masha did not stir. But the bully was shaking all over with rage; his eyes were half closed; he clenched his fists and laughed nervously.