SMIRNOV. [Angrily.] What?
LUKA. I—I—I just——
SMIRNOV. Whom are you talking to? Keep quiet.
LUKA. [Angrily.] Nice mess! This fellow won't leave!
[He goes out.
SMIRNOV. Lord, how angry I am! Angry enough to throw mud at the whole world! I even feel ill! Servant!
[Mrs. Popov comes in with downcast eyes.
MRS. POPOV. Sir, in my solitude I have become unaccustomed to the human voice and I cannot stand the sound of loud talking. I beg you, please to cease disturbing my rest.
SMIRNOV. Pay me my money and I'll leave.
MRS. POPOV. I told you once, plainly, in your native tongue, that I haven't the money at hand; wait until day after to-morrow.