SERGIUS.
My lady, and my saint! (Clasping her reverently.)
RAINA.
(returning his embrace). My lord and my g—
SERGIUS.
Sh—sh! Let me be the worshipper, dear. You little know how unworthy even the best man is of a girl’s pure passion!
RAINA.
I trust you. I love you. You will never disappoint me, Sergius. (Louka is heard singing within the house. They quickly release each other.) Hush! I can’t pretend to talk indifferently before her: my heart is too full. (Louka comes from the house with her tray. She goes to the table, and begins to clear it, with her back turned to them.) I will go and get my hat; and then we can go out until lunch time. Wouldn’t you like that?
SERGIUS.
Be quick. If you are away five minutes, it will seem five hours. (Raina runs to the top of the steps and turns there to exchange a look with him and wave him a kiss with both hands. He looks after her with emotion for a moment, then turns slowly away, his face radiant with the exultation of the scene which has just passed. The movement shifts his field of vision, into the corner of which there now comes the tail of Louka’s double apron. His eye gleams at once. He takes a stealthy look at her, and begins to twirl his moustache nervously, with his left hand akimbo on his hip. Finally, striking the ground with his heels in something of a cavalry swagger, he strolls over to the left of the table, opposite her, and says) Louka: do you know what the higher love is?
LOUKA.
(astonished). No, sir.
SERGIUS.
Very fatiguing thing to keep up for any length of time, Louka. One feels the need of some relief after it.
LOUKA.
(innocently). Perhaps you would like some coffee, sir? (She stretches her hand across the table for the coffee pot.)
SERGIUS.
(taking her hand). Thank you, Louka.
LOUKA.
(pretending to pull). Oh, sir, you know I didn’t mean that. I’m surprised at you!