'Where are your people?
May God aid you! Are you alone ?' he meant to say but did not say, and only raised his cap in silence.
He was ill at ease alone with Maryanka, but as if purposely to torment himself he went up to her.
'You'll be shooting the women with your gun like that,' said Maryanka.
'No, I shan't shoot them.' They were both silent.
Then after a pause she said: 'You should help me.' He took out his knife and began silently to cut off the clusters.

He reached from under the leaves low down a thick bunch weighing about three pounds, the grapes of which grew so close that they flattened each other for want of space.

He showed it to Maryanka.
'Must they all be cut?
Isn't this one too green ?' '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.