Tánya. Now, really, what are you bothering for? I'll give you such a kiss!
[Raises her hand to strike.
Vasíly Leoníditch (off the scene, rings and then shouts). Gregory!
Tánya. There now, go! Vasíly Leoníditch is calling you.
Gregory. He'll wait! He's only just opened his eyes! I say, why don't you love me?
Tánya. What sort of loving have you imagined now? I don't love anybody.
Gregory. That's a fib. You love Simon! You have found a nice one to love—a common, dirty-pawed peasant, a butler's assistant!
Tánya. Never mind; such as he is, you are jealous of him!
Vasíly Leoníditch (off the scene). Gregory!
Gregory. All in good time.... Jealous indeed! Of what? Why, you have only just begun to get licked into shape, and who are you tying yourself up with? Now, wouldn't it be altogether a different matter if you loved me?.... I say, Tánya....