'But I don't know how to do the work,' replied Olenin, trying not to look through the green branches under the wagon where he had now noticed Maryanka's blue smock and red kerchief.
'Come, I'll give you some peaches,' said the old woman.
'It's only according to the ancient Cossack hospitality.

It's her old woman's silliness,' said the cornet, explaining and apparently correcting his wife's words.

'In Russia, I expect, it's not so much peaches as pineapple jam and preserves you have been accustomed to eat at your pleasure.' 'So you say hares are to be found in the disused vineyard ?' asked Olenin.

'I will go there,' and throwing a hasty glance through the green branches he raised his cap and disappeared between the regular rows of green vines.
The sun had already sunk behind the fence of the vineyards, and its broken rays glittered through the translucent leaves when Olenin returned to his host's vineyard.

The wind was falling and a cool freshness was beginning to spread around.