NICOLA.
If you quarrel with the family, I never can marry you. It’s the same as if you quarrelled with me!
LOUKA.
You take her part against me, do you?
NICOLA.
(sedately). I shall always be dependent on the good will of the family. When I leave their service and start a shop in Sofia, their custom will be half my capital: their bad word would ruin me.
LOUKA.
You have no spirit. I should like to see them dare say a word against me!
NICOLA.
(pityingly). I should have expected more sense from you, Louka. But you’re young, you’re young!
LOUKA.
Yes; and you like me the better for it, don’t you? But I know some family secrets they wouldn’t care to have told, young as I am. Let them quarrel with me if they dare!
NICOLA.
(with compassionate superiority). Do you know what they would do if they heard you talk like that?
LOUKA.
What could they do?
NICOLA.
Discharge you for untruthfulness. Who would believe any stories you told after that? Who would give you another situation? Who in this house would dare be seen speaking to you ever again? How long would your father be left on his little farm? (She impatiently throws away the end of her cigaret, and stamps on it.) Child, you don’t know the power such high people have over the like of you and me when we try to rise out of our poverty against them. (He goes close to her and lowers his voice.) Look at me, ten years in their service. Do you think I know no secrets? I know things about the mistress that she wouldn’t have the master know for a thousand levas. I know things about him that she wouldn’t let him hear the last of for six months if I blabbed them to her. I know things about Raina that would break off her match with Sergius if—
LOUKA.
(turning on him quickly). How do you know? I never told you!