NAUM.
Where is Rosa?
SARAH.
In a whisper.
Not so loud,—she is there. (Aloud.) Well, hew was it, Naum? Did you get any credit?
NAUM.
Slowly.
No, mother, I did not get any credit. I am beginning to die, mother,—everybody feels hot, while I am very cold; and I am perspiring, but my perspiration is cold. I met Sonka—Ruzya died already.
SARAH.
You will live yet, Naum, you will live yet.