to-day.

LUBOV. Sold to whom?

ANYA. He didn't say to whom. He's gone now. [Dances out into the
reception-room with TROFIMOV.]

YASHA. Some old man was chattering about it a long time ago. A stranger!

FIERS. And Leonid Andreyevitch isn't here yet, he hasn't come. He's
wearing a light, _demi-saison_ overcoat. He'll catch cold. Oh these
young fellows.

LUBOV. I'll die of this. Go and find out, Yasha, to whom it's sold.

YASHA. Oh, but he's been gone a long time, the old man. [Laughs.]

LUBOV. [Slightly vexed] Why do you laugh? What are you glad about?

YASHA. Epikhodov's too funny. He's a silly man. Two-and-twenty troubles.

LUBOV. Fiers, if the estate is sold, where will you go?

FIERS. I'll go wherever you order me to go.

LUBOV. Why do you look like that? Are you ill? I think you ought to go
to bed....

FIERS. Yes... [With a smile] I'll go to bed, and who'll hand things
round and give orders without me? I've the whole house on my shoulders.

YASHA. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] Lubov Andreyevna! I want to ask a favour of
you, if you'll be so kind! If you go to Paris again, then please take
me with you. It's absolutely impossible for me to stop here. [Looking
round; in an undertone] What's the good of talking about it, you see for
yourself that this is an uneducated country, with an immoral population,
and it's so dull. The food in the kitchen is beastly, and here's this
Fiers walking about mumbling various inappropriate things. Take me with
you, be so kind!

[Enter PISCHIN.]

PISCHIN. I come to ask for the pleasure of a little waltz, dear lady....
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA goes to him] But all the same, you wonderful woman,
I must have 180 little roubles from you... I must.... [They dance] 180
little roubles.... [They go through into the drawing-room.]

YASHA. [Sings softly] "Oh, will you understand
My soul's deep restlessness?"

[In the drawing-room a figure in a grey top-hat and in baggy check
trousers is waving its hands and jumping about; there are cries of
"Bravo, Charlotta Ivanovna!"]

DUNYASHA. [Stops to powder her face] The young mistress tells me to
dance--there are a lot of gentlemen, but few ladies--and my head
goes round when I dance, and my heart beats, Fiers Nicolaevitch; the
Post-office clerk told me something just now which made me catch my
breath. [The music grows faint.]

FIERS. What did he say to you?

DUNYASHA. He says, "You're like a little flower."

YASHA. [Yawns] Impolite.... [E