ACT III
The drawing-room of Serebrakoff’s house. There are three doors: one to the right, one to the left, and one in the centre of the room. Voitski and Sonia are sitting down. Helena is walking up and down, absorbed in thought.
Voitski. We were asked by the professor to be here at one o’clock. [Looks at his watch] It is now a quarter to one. It seems he has some communication to make to the world.
Helena. Probably a matter of business.
Voitski. He never had any business. He writes twaddle, grumbles, and eats his heart out with jealousy; that’s all he does.
Sonia. [Reproachfully] Uncle!
Voitski. All right. I beg your pardon. [He points to Helena] Look at her. Wandering up and down from sheer idleness. A sweet picture, really.
Helena. I wonder you are not bored, droning on in the same key from morning till night. [Despairingly] I am dying of this tedium. What shall I do?
Sonia. [Shrugging her shoulders] There is plenty to do if you would.
Helena. For instance?
Sonia. You could help run this place, teach the children, care for the sick—isn’t that enough? Before you and papa came, Uncle Vanya and I used to go to market ourselves to deal in flour.
Helena. I don’t know anything about such things, and besides, they don’t interest me. It is only in novels that
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