Cath. [Removing Vasil's arm from her shoulder] There, go to your book, lad. The Shepherd will be coming back.
Vasil. [Smiling] I am ready for him. [Crosses to small table rear, sits by it, and begins studying. Vera follows him, and they look over the book together, Vasil explaining, Vera teasing]
Vet. [Taking up his work] I wish you loved the music, Catherine. It makes things different somehow ... while it lasts.
Cath. 'Tis your spirit, Petrovich. You were never like the rest of us. The others called you queer, but I knew it was just spirit.
Vet. Eh—yes. Don't you remember the gypsy ring in the forest forty-five years——
Cath. How you talk, Petrusha! 'Tis evil times [looks guardedly at the young people] and we are old.
Vet. Yes ... old. We may gather acorns in the woods, mother, but we shall never find any more flowers. Well enough. The trees would grow wrinkled with laughter to see an old man dancing beneath them. Eh—yes, let him stoop, and pick up brush.
Cath. [Comfortingly] We have the children, Petrusha.
Vet. [Sullenly] We had their father and mother, too.
Cath. We've fared better than others. We've always had our home.