SAVVA
Amen! You're very late, my gracious lord!
KONDRATY
I did the will of him who sent me. I was picking young little cucumbers for the Father Superior. He has them made into a dainty dish which he loves dearly for an appetizer. My, what infernal heat! I was in pools of perspiration before I got through.
SAVVA (to Lipa)
You see, here is a monk. He likes a drink. His cussing vocabulary isn't bad. He is no fool, and as to women—
KONDRATY
Don't embarrass the young lady, Mr. Tropinin. In the presence of a lady—