NATO [
falling sobbing in Chacho's arms
]. O dear, dear aunt.
CHACHO. Stop; don't cry, my dear, my precious child. It is indeed your father. Stop; stop, Salome.
SALOME [
coming in smiling
]. Dear aunt, I have arranged everything. [
Stops.
] What is this now? Why are you crying?
[Nato wipes away her tears and goes toward the divan.