Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile.
'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly.
'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted breathlessly. 'I usually walk here in the evening... and you...'
But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to keep up her innocent deception.
'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he pronounced with dignity, 'you yourself suggested...'
'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see me, you wanted...' Her voice died away.
Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes.
'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, and not used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished to tell you... but, I fancy, you 're not in the humour to listen to me....'
'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that for a long while now, ever since I had the honour of making your acquaintance...'
Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his sentence.
'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... There's no changing one's destiny...'
'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its blows!'
It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting moment for Lutchkov to rail against destiny.
'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed with a smile; 'some even too kind....'
'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I appreciate your friendliness... I... I... You won't be angry?'
'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya Sergievna, awfully charming....'
'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart was aching with anticipation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. Lutchkov,' she went on--'look, what a view!'
She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and flushed red with the sunset.
Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha....
'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls.
'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... a stroll's pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a soldier, and fine sentiments are not in my line.'