EPIKHODOV. [Nervous] I must ask you to express yourself more delicately.
VARYA. [Beside herself] Get out this minute. Get out! [He goes to the door, she follows] Two-and-twenty troubles! I don’t want any sign of you here! I don’t want to see anything of you! [EPIKHODOV has gone out; his voice can be heard outside: “I’ll make a complaint against you.”] What, coming back? [Snatches up the stick left by FIERS by the door] Go... go... go, I’ll show you.... Are you going? Are you going? Well, then take that. [She hits out as LOPAKHIN enters.]
LOPAKHIN. Much obliged.
VARYA. [Angry but amused] I’m sorry.
LOPAKHIN. Never mind. I thank you for my pleasant reception.
VARYA. It isn’t worth any thanks. [Walks away, then looks back and asks gently] I didn’t hurt you, did I?
LOPAKHIN. No, not at all. There’ll be an enormous bump, that’s all.
VOICES FROM THE DRAWING-ROOM. Lopakhin’s returned! Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
PISCHIN. Now we’ll see what there is to see and hear what there is to hear... [Kisses LOPAKHIN] You smell of cognac, my dear, my soul. And we’re all having a good time.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA.]