SINGER. Sweetheart!
DAUGHTER (going to him). Is it all right?
SINGER. Everything is all right, beloved.
DAUGHTER. You have told him?
SINGER (nodding). It couldn't have fallen out better. He, too, was tired of wandering and wanted to settle down.
DAUGHTER. I told mother. She seemed glad. You know, I think she seems younger about something.
[Enter FIDDLER.]
FIDDLER. Are we starting this afternoon?
DAUGHTER. Oh, Fiddler dear, do you mind very much? (She holds out her hand, and the SINGER takes it.) We aren't coming at all. We—we—
SINGER. We are getting married.