Matryòna. Well, then, you take the message while we’re at tea.
Dàrya. Yes’m.
Voice in the ante-room. Wife! I say! wife! Matryòna Sàvishna!
Matryòna. What’s the matter?
Antìp (enters). Good evening, wife. Why, how you jump! Who did you think it was? (Kisses her.) Give us another kiss. (Caressing her playfully.)
Matryòna (shrinking away). That’ll do, Antìp Antìpych! Let me alone! Oh! what a nuisance you are!
Antìp. But I want a kiss.
Matryòna. Oh! leave off, for goodness’ sake!
Antìp. I daresay! (Kisses her.) What a jolly little wife it is! That’s the sort of wife to have! (Sits on the sofa.) Do you know what, Matryòna Sàvishna?
Matryòna. What now?