ANNA PÁVLOVNA. No, no, come here, please! I told you the land must not be sold on credit, and everybody told you so, but you let yourself be deceived like the veriest blockhead.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. How? I don't understand who is deceiving?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You have grey hair, and you let yourself be deceived and laughed at like a silly boy. You grudge your son some three hundred roubles which his social position demands, and let yourself be tricked of thousands—like a fool!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Now come, Annette, try to be calm.
FIRST PEASANT. We are only come about the acceptation of the sum, for example …
THIRD PEASANT [taking out the money] Let us finish the matter, for Christ's sake!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Wait, wait!
Enter Tánya and Gregory.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [angrily] You were in the small drawing-room during the séance last night?
Tánya looks round at Theodore Ivánitch, Leoníd Fyódoritch, and Simon, and sighs.