[Enter LUKA with the vodka.]
LUKA. You allow yourself to go very far, sir....
SMIRNOV [Angrily] What?
LUKA. I... er... nothing... I really...
SMIRNOV. Whom are you talking to? Shut up!
LUKA. [Aside] The devil’s come to stay.... Bad luck that brought him.... [Exit.]
SMIRNOV. Oh, how angry I am! So angry that I think I could grind the whole world to dust.... I even feel sick.... [Yells] Waiter!
[Enter POPOVA.]
POPOVA. [Her eyes downcast] Sir, in my solitude I have grown unaccustomed to the masculine voice, and I can’t stand shouting. I must ask you not to disturb my peace.
SMIRNOV. Pay me the money, and I’ll go.