Trigorin. And if I caught a perch or a bass, what bliss it would be!
Dorn. I have great faith in Constantine. I know there is something in him. He thinks in images; his stories are vivid and full of colour, and always affect me deeply. It is only a pity that he has no definite object in view. He creates impressions, and nothing more, and one cannot go far on impressions alone. Are you glad, madam, that you have an author for a son?
Arkadina. Just think, I have never read anything of his; I never have time.
Masha. Twenty-six.
Treplieff comes in quietly and sits down at his table.
Shamraeff. [To Trigorin] We have something here that belongs to you, sir.
Trigorin. What is it?
Shamraeff. You told me to have the sea-gull stuffed that Mr. Constantine killed some time ago.
Trigorin. Did I? [Thoughtfully] I don’t remember.
Masha. Sixty-one. One.
Treplieff throws open the window and stands listening.
Treplieff. How dark the night is! I wonder what makes me so restless.
Arkadina. Shut the window, Constantine, there is a draught here.
Treplieff shuts the window.
Masha. Ninety-eight.
Trigorin. See, my card is full.
Arkadina. [Gaily] Bravo! Bravo!
Shamraeff. Bravo!
Arkadina. Wherever he goes and whatever he does, that man always has good luck. [She gets up] And now, come to supper. Our renowned guest did not have any dinner to-day.
