NATASHA. I guess lying is more fun than speaking the truth—I, too . . .
THE BARON. What—you, too? Go on!
NATASHA. Oh—I imagine things—invent them—and I wait—
THE BARON. For what?
NATASHA [smiling confusedly] Oh—I think that perhaps—well—to-morrow somebody will really appear—some one—oh—out of the ordinary—or something’ll happen—also out of the ordinary. . . . I’ve been waiting for it—oh—always. . . . But, really, what is there to wait for? [Pause]
THE BARON [with a slight smile] Nothing—I expect nothing! What is past, is past! Through! Over with! And then what?
NATASHA. And then—well—to-morrow I imagine suddenly that I’ll die—and I get frightened . . . in summer it’s all right to dream of death—then there are thunder storms—one might get struck by lightning . . .
THE BARON. You’ve a hard life . . . your sister’s a wicked-tempered devil!
NATASHA. Tell me—does anybody live happily? It’s hard for all of us—I can see that . . .
KLESHTCH [who until this moment has sat motionless and indifferent, jumps up suddenly] For all? You lie! Not for all! If it were so—all right! Then it wouldn’t hurt—yes!