Vera. No. I want to stay with you. [Guilefully] You are going away, you know.
Vasil. [Rising] There may be news from——
Vera. Don't go! I promised.
Vasil. Then it is from Petoff.
Vera. Adrian doesn't want you to hear about such things.
Vasil. [Sitting down] Haven't I ears and eyes? They think I don't know ... but see here. [Takes up a tablet] You may read it, Vera. [She glances over tablet] I wrote it this morning.
Vera. It is gay and sad too. But it is not like a June song. There are no birds and flowers in it.
Vasil. Don't you know who the "Summer Maid" is, Vera?
Vera. Summer herself, isn't she?
Vasil. No, stupid. She is Freedom—Liberty.