It was already quite dark.

Maryanka, wearing only her smock, was combing her hair preparing for bed.
'It's I--' whispered the Cossack.
Maryanka's look was severely indifferent, but her face suddenly brightened up when she heard her name.

She opened the window and leant out, frightened and joyous.
'What--what do you want ?' she said.
'Open!' uttered Lukashka.

'Let me in for a minute.

I am so sick of waiting! It's awful!' He took hold of her head through the window and kissed her.
'Really, do open!' 'Why do you talk nonsense?
I've told you I won't! Have you come for long ?' He did not answer but went on kissing her, and she did not ask again.
'There, through the window one can't even hug you properly,' said Lukashka.
'Maryanka dear!' came the voice of her mother, 'who is that with you ?' Lukashka took off his cap, which might have been seen, and crouched down by the window.
'Go, be quick!' whispered Maryanka.
'Lukashka called round,' she answered; 'he was asking for Daddy.' 'Well then send him here!' 'He's gone; said he was in a hurry.' In fact, Lukashka, stooping, as with big strides he passed under the windows, ran out through the yard and towards Yamka's house unseen by anyone but Olenin.