Women will lead you to no good." So saying, he leaned his hand upon his hand and gazed intently at the muffled form of the Tatar.
Andrii stood there, more dead than alive, not daring to look in his father's face.

When he did raise his eyes and glance at him, old Bulba was asleep, with his head still resting in the palm of his hand.
Andrii crossed himself.

Fear fled from his heart even more rapidly than it had assailed it.

When he turned to look at the Tatar woman, she stood before him, muffled in her mantle, like a dark granite statue, and the gleam of the distant dawn lighted up only her eyes, dull as those of a corpse.

He plucked her by the sleeve, and both went on together, glancing back continually.