Vera. [With dignity] I am betrothed.
Soph. Happy Alexander!
Vasil. [Jealously, as she caresses Vera] Princess, may I play to you before you go?
Soph. O, will you?
Vera. Sit here, princess.
[Sophie takes the large chair, Vera sits on stool beside her. Vasil gets his violin from table, comes over and stands ready to play. Drops the bow in desperation]
Soph. What is the matter?
Vasil. How can I play to that ugly coat and hat?
Soph. [Laughing and removing hat and ulster] Is that all?
Vasil. Now you are my princess!