LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Oh, Annushka, if you only knew how I love him!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Love him, then, my dear, but don't lose your wits. Don't let him go too far, or you may be sorry for it. Be sure you find out first what sort of a fellow he is.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. He's a good lad!—I love him very much; he's so quiet, and he's an orphan.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, if he's good, then love him; you ought to know best. I just said that! Many a girl comes to grief because of them. It's easy to get into trouble, if you don't use your sense.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What is our love? Like a blade of grass in the field; it blooms out of season—and it fades.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Wait a moment! Some one's coming, I think. Isn't it he? I'll go and you wait, perhaps it's he! Have a good talk with him. [She goes out.
MÍTYA enters.
SCENE II
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA and MÍTYA
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Who's there?