[Noise of shuffling feet is heard in the hallway. Muffled cries.]
MIEDVIEDIEFF. What now—a row?
BUBNOFF. Sounds like it?
KVASHNYA. I’ll go and see . . .
MIEDVIEDIEFF. I’ll go, too. It is my duty! Why separate people when they fight? They’ll stop sooner or later of their own accord. One gets tired of fighting. Why not let them fight all they want to—freely? They wouldn’t fight half as often—if they’d remember former beatings . . .
BUBNOFF [climbing down from his bunk] Why don’t you speak to your superiors about it?
KOSTILYOFF [throws open the door and shouts] Abram! Come quick—Vassilisa is killing Natasha—come quick!
[Kvashnya, Miedviedieff, and Bubnoff rush into hallway; Luka looks after them, shaking his head.]
ANNA. Oh God—poor little Natasha . . .