jingled the
money in his pocket. 'Now we can live splendidly. Others have
pleasures, and I? I get no pleasure from you, Maryanka dear!'

The girl did not answer. She stood before him breaking her switch into
little bits with a rapid movement of her fingers.

Lukashka suddenly clenched his teeth and fists.

'And why keep waiting and waiting? Don't I love you, darling? You can
do what you like with me,' said he suddenly, frowning angrily and
seizing both her hands.

The calm expression of Maryanka's face and voice did not change.

'Don't bluster, Lukashka, but listen to me,' she answered, not pulling
away her hands but holding the Cossack at arm's length. 'It's true I am
a girl, but you listen to me! It does not depend on me, but if you love
me I'll tell you this. Let go my hands, I'll tell you without.--I'll
marry you, but you'll never get any nonsense from me,' said Maryanka
without turning her face.

'What, you'll marry me? Marriage does not depend on us. Love me
yourself, Maryanka dear,' said Lukashka, from sullen and furious
becoming again gentle, submissive, and tender, and smiling as he looked
closely into her eyes.

Maryanka clung to him and kissed him firmly on the lips.

'Brother dear!' she whispered, pressing him convulsively to her. Then,
suddenly tearing herself away, she ran into the gate of her house
without looking round.

In spite of the Cossack's entreaties to wait another minute to hear
what he had to say, Maryanka did not stop.

'Go,' she cried, 'you'll be seen! I do believe that devil, our lodger,
is walking about the yard.'

'Cornet's daughter,' thought Lukashka. 'She will marry me. Marriage is
all very well, but you just love me!'

He found Nazarka at Yamka's house, and after having a spree with him
went to Dunayka's house, where, in spite of her not being faithful to
him, he spent the night.

Chapter XIV

It was quite true that Olenin had been walking about the yard when
Maryanka entered the gate, and had heard her say, 'That devil, our
lodger, is walking about.' He had spent that evening with Daddy Eroshka
in the porch of his new lodging. He had had a table, a samovar, wine,
and a candle brought out, and over a cup of tea and a cigar he listened
to the tales the old man told seated on the threshold at his feet.
Though the air was still, the candle dripped and flickered: now
lighting up the post of the porch, now the table and crockery, now the
cropped white head of the o