LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Is it you, uncle!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Oh, it's I, niece! What? You got a fright? Clear out, never mind! I'm not the man to tell tales. I'll put it in a box, and think it over after, all in my spare time.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Good-by. [Goes out.
SCENE XII
MÍTYA and LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Mítya, receive unto thyself Lyubím Kárpych TORTSÓV, the brother of a wealthy merchant.
MÍTYA. You are welcome.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [Sits down] My brother turned me out! And in the street, in a coat like this—one has to dance about a bit! The frost—at Christmas time—brrr!—My hands are frozen, and my feet nipped—brrr!
MÍTYA. Warm yourself up, Lyubím Kárpych.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You will not drive me away, Mítya? If you do, I'll freeze in the yard—I'll freeze like a dog.