KVASHNYA. Wearing my blouse again? And drunk, eh? What’s the idea?
MIEDVIEDIEFF. In celebration of Bubnoff’s birthday . . . besides, it’s cold . . .
KVASHNYA. Better look out—stop fooling about and go to sleep!
MIEDVIEDIEFF [goes to kitchen] Sleep? I can—I want to—it’s time—[Exit]
SATINE. What’s the matter? Why are you so strict with him?
KVASHNYA. You can’t be otherwise, friend. You have to be strict with his sort. I took him as a partner. I thought he’d be of some benefit to me—because he’s a military man—and you’re a rough lot . . . and I am a woman—and now he’s turned drunkard—that won’t do at all!
SATINE. You picked a good one for partner!
KVASHNYA. Couldn’t get a better one. You wouldn’t want to live with me . . . you think you’re too fine! And even if you did it wouldn’t last more than a week . . . you gamble me and all I own away at cards!
SATINE [roars with laughter] That’s true, landlady—I’d gamble . . .