PROKÓFYEVNA. I tell you it's a mistake. It's true, she isn't without faults. There's a woman here who comes to him, and looks like her, but it isn't she. What's that to me! Wouldn't I tell you? But if it isn't true, then why talk nonsense?
ULYÁNA. You're just helping them out.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Don't tell wrong stories, Ulyana; don't tell wrong stories!
ULYÁNA. But where's the wrong, Prokófyevna! She's equal to it; because I know her. It's too bad brother has given her so much freedom. I wouldn't have thought of saying such a thing of another, but it isn't a sin to say it of her. If not to-day then to-morrow she'll begin to raise trouble that will never come to an end. She'll hoodwink brother. If you only knew how she's insulted me.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Is that so?
ULYÁNA. May I die in my tracks if she didn't! She's changed brother so that now he fairly growls at me. "I won't have anything to do with you," says he. That's the sort she is! Just you wait, my dear! I'm not like some.
PROKÓFYEVNA. That's enough for you! What's the good of your mixing in!
She's the mistress in her house, and you are in yours.
ULYÁNA. To the deuce with her! I've nothing to do with her. But it hurts me, Prokófyevna, that she upsets brother, and estranges him from his whole family.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Well, that's your business; you'll settle accounts somehow.
Are you going home now?
ULYÁNA. Yes, my dear; it's supper-time. My boss is probably storming and pacing the floor by now. Come and see us!