ur behaviour to her. Forgive me, I am
excited and am going to speak frankly. Your treatment of her is killing
her. [A pause] Ivanoff, let me believe better things of you.

IVANOFF. What you say is true, true. I must be terribly guilty, but my
mind is confused. My will seems to be paralysed by a kind of stupor; I
can't understand myself or any one else. [Looks toward the window] Come,
let us take a walk, we might be overheard here. [They get up] My dear
friend, you should hear the whole story from the beginning if it were
not so long and complicated that to tell it would take all night. [They
walk up and down] Anna is a splendid, an exceptional woman. She has left
her faith, her parents and her fortune for my sake. If I should demand
a hundred other sacrifices, she would consent to every one without the
quiver of an eyelid. Well, I am not a remarkable man in any way, and
have sacrificed nothing. However, the story is a long one. In short, the
whole point is, my dear doctor--[Confused] that I married her for love
and promised to love her forever, and now after five years she loves me
still and I--[He waves his hand] Now, when you tell me she is dying, I
feel neither love nor pity, only a sort of loneliness and weariness. To
all appearances this must seem horrible, and I cannot understand myself
what is happening to me. [They go out.]

SHABELSKI comes in.

SHABELSKI. [Laughing] Upon my word, that man is no scoundrel, but a
great thinker, a master-mind. He deserves a memorial. He is the essence
of modern ingenuity, and combines in himself alone the genius of the
lawyer, the doctor, and the financier. [He sits down on the lowest step
of the terrace] And yet he has never finished a course of studies in any
college; that is so surprising. What an ideal scoundrel he would have
made if he had acquired a little culture and mastered the sciences! "You
could make twenty thousand roubles in a week," he said. "You still hold
the ace of trumps: it is your title." [Laughing] He said I might get
a rich girl to marry me for it! [ANNA opens the window and looks down]
"Let me make a match between you and Martha," says he. Who is this
Martha? It must be that Balabalkina--Babakalkina woman, the one that
looks like a laundress.

ANNA. Is that you, Count?

SHABELSKI. What do you want?

ANNA laughs.

SHABELSKI. [With a Jewish accent] Vy do you laugh?

ANNA. I was thinking of something you said at dinner, do you remember?
How was it--a