ours anyway.

ANNA. In a couple of hours! Thank you! A nice answer. Why don't you
say, in a month. We'll know still more in a month. [She leans out of the
window.] Here, Avdotya! I say! Have you heard whether anybody has come,
Avdotya?--No, you goose, you didn't--He waved his hands? Well, what of
it? Let him wave his hands. But you should have asked him anyhow.
You couldn't find out, of course, with your head full of nonsense and
lovers. Eh, what? They left in a hurry? Well, you should have run after
the carriage. Off with you, off with you at once, do you hear? Run and
ask everybody where they are. Be sure and find out who the newcomer
is and what he is like, do you hear? Peep through a crack and find
everything out--what sort of eyes he has, whether they are black or
blue, and be back here instantly, this minute, do you hear? Quick,
quick, quick!

She keeps on calling and they both stand at the window until the curtain
drops.

ACT II

A small room in the inn, bed, table, travelling bag, empty bottle,
boots, clothes brush, etc.

SCENE I

OSIP [lying on his master's bed]. The devil take it! I'm so hungry.
There's a racket in my belly, as if a whole regiment were blowing
trumpets. We'll never reach home. I'd like to know what we are going to
do. Two months already since we left St. Pete. He's gone through all his
cash, the precious buck, so now he sticks here with his tail between his
legs and takes it easy. We'd have had enough and more than enough to pay
for the fare, but no he must exhibit himself in every town. [Imitates
him.] "Osip, get me the best room to be had and order the best dinner
they serve. I can't stand bad food. I must have the best." It would be
all right for a somebody, but for a common copying clerk! Goes and gets
acquainted with the other travellers, plays cards, and plays himself
out of his last penny. Oh, I'm sick of this life. It's better in our
village, really. There isn't so much going on, but then there is less to
bother about. You get yourself a wife and lie on the stove all the time
and eat pie. Of course, if you wanted to tell the truth, there's no
denying it that there's nothing like living in St. Pete. All you want is
money. And then you can live smart and classy--theeadres, dogs to dance
for you, everything, and everybody talks so genteel, pretty near like
in high society. If you go to the Schukin bazaar, the shopkeepers cry,
"Gentlemen," at you. You sit with the off