It was already dark when Lukashka went out into the street.

The autumn night was fresh and calm.

The full golden moon floated up behind the tall dark poplars that grew on one side of the square.

From the chimneys of the outhouses smoke rose and spread above the village, mingling with the mist.

Here and there lights shone through the windows, and the air was laden with the smell of kisyak, grape-pulp, and mist.