[Covers her face with the letter, takes it to her lips and breathes with difficulty. She takes from her right sleeve a handkerchief and wipes her eyes.]
Lizzie [moved, embracing her with both arms]. My dear Fanny! How happy I am! You dear, you! [Dreamily.] Now I know how I'll play at the Ginsbergs' to-night! I'll put my whole soul into the music, and it will be the merriest, cheeriest soul that ever lived in the world.
Fanny [bends down and kisses her forehead]. My faithful friend!
Lizzie. At last! My dream's come true!
Fanny [drops into the armchair]. Your dream?
Lizzie [takes a piece of cloth from the table, spreads it out on the floor, and kneels before Fanny]. Listen. I dreamed for you a hero before whom the world, even before seeing him, would bare its head. I dreamed for you a triumphal march of powerful harmonies, a genius, a superman, such as only you deserve.
Fanny. Sh! Sh! Don't talk like that!
Lizzie. No, no. You can't take that away from me. As long as I shall live I'll never cease admiring you. There aren't many sisters in the world like you. Why, you never have given a thought to yourself, never a look, but have worked with might and main to make a somebody out of your sister. I'll tell you the truth. I've often had the most unfriendly feelings toward your sister Olga. She takes it so easy there in Petrograd, while you—
Fanny [tenderly]. You're a naughty girl.
Lizzie. I simply couldn't see how things went on,—how you were working yourself to death.