BABÁYEV. To my own village. There everything is the same as when mother lived: the same lanes, ponds, and arbors; everything is familiar to you, and will remind you of the past. There you'd be my housekeeper. TATYÁNA. [_Freeing herself from his arm_] What ideas you do get, my dear sir! How could you get such a foolish notion into your head! Do you think my husband would allow such a thing! Why, he'd find me, at the bottom of the sea! BABÁYEV. For a time we'll be able to hide you so that he won't find you; and meanwhile we can smooth it over with him. TATYÁNA. What! What! That's a bright idea! Stop talking such nonsense! You'd better advise me how to live with my husband the rest of my life. BABÁYEV. Why so! Much I care for that! TATYÁNA. So, you don't love me a little bit! You're just making believe! Yes, that's it! BABÁYEV. Tánya, isn't it a sin for you to talk so? Now, tell me, isn't it? TATYÁNA. What? BABÁYEV. Isn't it a sin to suspect me? TATYÁNA. Oh, you! One can't tell whether you're making believe or not. BABÁYEV. Why should you tell, my angel! Don't worry about me! Just ask your own heart what it tells you! [_Embraces her_. TATYÁNA. But what does yours tell you? BABÁYEV. Yes, but, Tánya, you don't believe me; you say that I'm making believe, and yet you are asking questions. But how could I deceive you? TATYÁNA. You aren't a bit interested! You're just talking. BABÁYEV. Don't be afraid; I'll not deceive! Why should I deceive you? [_Leans towards her; she listens with downcast eyes_] I'll tell you what, Tánya! My heart tells me that I have never loved any one as I do you. It's all the same whether you believe me or not. But I will prove that it is the truth, and you yourself will agree with me. Why, I don't tell you that I've never seen women more beautiful than you, or cleverer. Then you might tell me to my face that I lied. No, I have seen more beautiful women than you, and cleverer; but I have never seen such a darling, charming, artless little woman as you. TATYÁNA. [Sighing] Artless--Ah, you speak the truth. BABÁYEV. Well, I've told you what I feel. Why don't you tell me? TATYÁNA. What should I say? I don't know how. I might say more than you. But why say anything--you know yourself. BABÁYEV. That is, possibly, I guess, but---- TATYÁNA. Why "but"? There's nothing to be said! BABÁYEV. Yes, there is. I guess the secret but I get no good from it. [_Pause_] Tell me yourself that you love me! Well, how about it, Tánya? TATYÁNA. What do you want? BABÁYEV. Do you love me? [_Pause_] Do you love me? TATYÁNA. [_Dropping her eyes_] Well, yes. BABÁYEV. Very much? [_Pause_] Why are you silent? Do you love me very much? TATYÁNA. Yes. BABÁYEV. Will you go to the village with me? TATYÁNA. Ah, stop urging me! BABÁYEV. Well, you needn't go to the village then. I know what we'll do: I'll rent a lodging here in the city, and will come here every other week. Do you agree to that? TATYÁNA. Yes.