Karp. Well, it’s all one to me.
Oulìta. Yes; I was only thinking.... Supposing Serafimochka were to marry, I really think I’d have a dress made of it.... All the ladies are wearing it.
Karp. And you call yourself a lady?
Oulìta. Well, what else am I?
Karp. You might have found out by now that I can’t bear to hear you call yourself a lady. I hate the word!
Oulìta. What’s the matter with the word? There’s nothing—(hesitates)—nothing to be ashamed of.
Karp. If I don’t like it, that’s enough, I suppose!
Oulìta. Well, Serafimochka’s a lady, anyway.
Karp. Of course she is! She’s had learning; and she was married to a gentleman. But what are you? You were always a goodwife like any other. And now, just because your husband’s got rich, you must be a lady! Climb on your own feet if you want to be so high!
Oulìta. No, no! But all the same ... you know——