to say good-bye to you, my friends, and to my table here, and then—away!
Marina. Don’t hurry away; sit a little longer with us.
Astroff. Impossible.
Voitski. [Writing] And carry forward from the old debt two seventy-five———
Workman comes in.
Workman. Your carriage is waiting, sir.
Astroff. All right. [He hands the Workman his medicine-case, portfolio, and box] Look out, don’t crush the portfolio!
Workman. Very well, sir.
Sonia. When shall we see you again?
Astroff. Hardly before next summer. Probably not this winter, though, of course, if anything should happen you will let me know. [He shakes hands with them] Thank you for your kindness, for your hospitality, for everything! [He goes up to Marina and kisses her head] Good-bye, old nurse!
Marina. Are you going without your tea?
Astroff. I don’t want any, nurse.
Marina. Won’t you have a drop of vodka?
Astroff. [Hesitatingly] Yes, I might.
Marina goes out.
Astroff. [After a pause] My off-wheeler has gone lame for some reason. I noticed it yesterday when Peter was taking him to water.
Voitski. You should have him re-shod.
Astroff. I shall have to go around by the blacksmith’s on my way home. It can’t be avoided. [He stands looking up at the map of Africa hanging on the wall] I suppose it is roasting hot in Africa now.
Voitski. Yes, I suppose it is.
Marina comes back carrying a tray on which are a glass of vodka and a piece of bread.
