In half an hour it will be too late for the petit
lever. Come along. Damn it, man, I must oblige the British
ambassador, and the French ambassador, and old Fritz, and
Monsieur Voltaire and the rest of them. [He shouts rudely to the
door.] Varinka! [To Edstaston, with tears in his voice.] Varinka
shall persuade you: nobody can refuse Varinka anything. My niece.
A treasure, I assure you. Beautiful! devoted! fascinating!
[Shouting again.] Varinka, where the devil are you?
VARINKA [returning]. I'll not be shouted for. You have the voice
of a bear, and the manners of a tinker.
PATIOMKIN. Tsh-sh-sh. Little angel Mother: you must behave
yourself before the English captain. [He takes off his
dressing-gown and throws it over the papers and the breakfasts:
picks up his coat: and disappears behind the screen to complete
his toilette.]
EDSTASTON. Madam! [He bows.]
VARINKA [courtseying]. Monsieur le Capitaine!
EDSTASTON. I must apologize for the disturbance I made, madam.
PATIOMKIN [behind the screen]. You must not call her madam. You
must call her Little Mother, and beautiful darling.
EDSTASTON. My respect for the lady will not permit it.
VARINKA. Respect! How can you respect the niece of a savage?
EDSTASTON [deprecatingly].
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