"Young man, you don't argue correctly," said the peasant who was filling the sacks. "What is of weight in us? Is it our body that weighs? Our body, my good fellow, counts for nothing on the scales: it's our strength, our strength, that weighs—not our body!"
"Yes, when I was a girl, I was terribly strong," said Katerina Lvovna, who was unable to restrain herself. "Not every man could get the better of me."
"Well, then, if that is so, give me your little hand," said the handsome young fellow.
Katerina Lvovna became confused, but held out her hand.
"Oh, let go of my ring, it hurts!" cried Katerina Lvovna, when Sergei squeezed her hand in his; and with her free hand she gave him a blow on the chest.
The young fellow released the mistress's hand and her blow made him stagger two paces backwards.
"So that's how you can judge a woman," said the surprised peasant.
"No, allow me to try to wrestle with you?" said Sergei, throwing back his curls.
"Very well, try," answered Katerina Lvovna gaily, and she lifted up her elbows.
Sergei put his arms round the young mistress, and pressed her firm breasts to his red shirt.
