A fine cross!
KONDRATY
Every man, Miss Olympiada, has his cross. It isn't so very nice to be lying in a mud puddle. Dry ground is pleasanter every time. And do you know, I think half of the water in that puddle was my own tears, and my woeful lamentations made ripples on it—
SAVVA
That's not quite so, Kondraty. You were singing a song: "And we're baptized of him in Jordan"—to a very jolly tune at that.
KONDRATY
You don't say! What of it? So much the worse. It shows to what depths a man will descend.
SAVVA
Don't assume a melancholy air, father. You're quite a jovial fellow by nature, and the assumption of grief doesn't go well with your face, I assure you.