The old woman, who had at first struck Olenin so much by her rudeness, now often touched him by her simple tenderness towards her daughter.
'Yes, we need not offend the Lord by grumbling! We have enough of everything, thank God.

We have pressed sufficient CHIKHIR and have preserved and shall sell three or four barrels of grapes and have enough left to drink.

Don't be in a hurry to leave us.

We will make merry together at the wedding.' 'And when is the wedding to be ?' asked Olenin, feeling his blood suddenly rush to his face while his heart beat irregularly and painfully.
He heard a movement on the oven and the sound of seeds being cracked.
'Well, you know, it ought to be next week.

We are quite ready,' replied the old woman, as simply and quietly as though Olenin did not exist.