Adr. What can I do? Where will she be safe?
Soph. Not in the Czar's dominions. Petrizoff——
Adr. I know! Something must be done at once. I must think!
Soph. I have already thought. Will you trust me?
Adr. [Gazing at her] Absolutely.
Soph. O, thank you!
Adr. You have a plan?
Soph. A friend of mine leaves for Odessa to-morrow to embark for America. Vera can travel with her, taking her maid's passport. She will be safe until to-morrow. The officers' ball, and some other matters, will keep Petrizoff occupied. I will arrange everything and send for her in the morning.
Adr. Poor little girl! It will be hard for her, and her grandparents are very feeble. Dear old Petrovich! It will kill him to lose his darling.
Soph. [With concealed anxiety] You—you are very fond of her?