EDSTASTON. I can't help that. We haven't a moment to lose.
CLAIRE. May I tell her she will be knouted if we stay?
EDSTASTON. Do, dearest.
He kisses her and lets her go, expecting her to run into the house.
CLAIRE [pausing thoughtfully]. Is she—is she good-looking when you see her close?
EDSTASTON. Not a patch on you, dearest.
CLAIRE [jealous]. Then you did see her close?
EDSTASTON. Fairly close.
CLAIRE. Indeed! How close? No: that's silly of me: I will tell mamma. [She is going out when Naryshkin enters with the Sergeant and a squad of soldiers.] What do you want here?
The Sergeant goes to Edstaston: plumps down on his knees: and takes out a magnificent pair of pistols with gold grips. He proffers them to Edstaston, holding them by the barrels.