Without losing presence of mind however he tried to explain that he meant to pay for his lodgings, but the old woman would not give him a hearing.
'What have you come for?
Who wants a pest like you, with your scraped face?
You just wait a bit; when the master returns he'll show you your place.

I don't want your dirty money! A likely thing--just as if we had never seen any! You'll stink the house out with your beastly tobacco and want to put it right with money! Think we've never seen a pest! May you be shot in your bowels and your heart!' shrieked the old woman in a piercing voice, interrupting Olenin.
'It seems Vanyusha was right!' thought Olenin.

"A Tartar would be nobler",' and followed by Granny Ulitka's abuse he went out of the hut.
As he was leaving, Maryanka, still wearing only her pink smock, but with her forehead covered down to her eyes by a white kerchief, suddenly slipped out from the passage past him.

Pattering rapidly down the steps with her bare feet she ran from the porch, stopped, and looking round hastily with laughing eyes at the young man, vanished round the corner of the hut.
Her firm youthful step, the untamed look of the eyes glistening from under the white kerchief, and the firm stately build of the young beauty, struck Olenin even more powerfully than before.

'Yes, it must be SHE,' he thought, and troubling his head still less about the lodgings, he kept looking round at Maryanka as he approached Vanyusha.
'There you see, the girl too is quite savage, just like a wild filly!' said Vanyusha, who though still busy with the luggage wagon had now cheered up a bit.