Some five male domestic serfs, big and little, rushed out to the front porch to meet their master. A score of women serfs, old and young, as well as children, popped out from the back entrance to have a look at the hunters who were arriving. The presence of Natásha⁠—a woman, a lady, and on horseback⁠—raised the curiosity of the serfs to such a degree that many of them came up to her, stared her in the face, and unabashed by her presence made remarks about her as though she were some prodigy on show and not a human being able to hear or understand what was said about her.

“Arínka! Look, she sits sideways! There she sits and her skirt dangles.⁠ ⁠… See, she’s got a little hunting horn!”

“Goodness gracious! See her knife?⁠ ⁠…”

“Isn’t she a Tartar!”

“How is it you didn’t go head over heels?” asked the boldest of all, addressing Natásha directly.