It's nothing. They are all faces.
SAVVA (leaving the window, calm and stern, but also pale) Well, sister?
LIPA (flinging herself about the room)
I want to run with the rest. I'll run. Where is my scarf? Where is my scarf? My God, My God! Where is my scarf?
SAVVA
Your scarf? There it is. But I won't give it to you. Sit down; you have nothing to do there.
LIPA
Let me have it.
SAVVA
No, sit down, sit down. It's too late now anyway.