LIPA (following him with her eyes)
Go away from here, Savva. You are not wanted here.
SAVVA
What?
LIPA (reluctantly)
They may recognize you and then—Why don't you put on a hat at least?
You look like—
FRIAR
Yes, go—please go—dear Mr. Savva. Why, they—why, they might kill you!
SAVVA (in a sudden outburst of anger)
Leave me alone! No one will kill me. It's bosh! (Pause. Sits down)
I wish I could get a drink of water or something. I am very thirsty.
Isn't there a pool or something of the kind around here?