POPOVA. One thousand two hundred.... And what was my husband in debt to you for? SMIRNOV. He used to buy oats from me. POPOVA. [Sighing, to LUKA] So don’t you forget, Luka, to give Toby an extra feed of oats. [Exit LUKA] If Nicolai Mihailovitch died in debt to you, then I shall certainly pay you, but you must excuse me to-day, as I haven’t any spare cash. The day after to-morrow my steward will be back from town, and I’ll give him instructions to settle your account, but at the moment I cannot do as you wish.... Moreover, it’s exactly seven months to-day since the death of my husband, and I’m in a state of mind which absolutely prevents me from giving money matters my attention. SMIRNOV. And I’m in a state of mind which, if I don’t pay the interest due to-morrow, will force me to make a graceful exit from this life feet first. They’ll take my estate! POPOVA. You’ll have your money the day after to-morrow. SMIRNOV. I don’t want the money the day after tomorrow, I want it to-day. POPOVA. You must excuse me, I can’t pay you. SMIRNOV. And I can’t wait till after to-morrow. POPOVA. Well, what can I do, if I haven’t the money now! SMIRNOV. You mean to say, you can’t pay me? POPOVA. I can’t. SMIRNOV. Hm! Is that the last word you’ve got to say? POPOVA. Yes, the last word. SMIRNOV. The last word? Absolutely your last? POPOVA. Absolutely. SMIRNOV. Thank you so much. I’ll make a note of it. [Shrugs his shoulders] And then people want me to keep calm! I meet a man on the road, and he asks me “Why are you always so angry, Grigory Stepanovitch?” But how on earth am I not to get angry? I want the money desperately. I rode out yesterday, early in the morning, and called on all my debtors, and not a single one of them paid up! I was just about dead-beat after it all, slept, goodness knows where, in some inn, kept by a Jew, with a vodka-barrel by my head. At last I get here, seventy versts from home, and hope to get something, and I am received by you with a “state of mind”! How shouldn’t I get angry. POPOVA. I thought I distinctly said my steward will pay you when he returns from town. SMIRNOV. I didn’t come to your steward, but to you! What the devil, excuse my saying so, have I to do with your steward! POPOVA. Excuse me, sir, I am not accustomed to listen to such expressions or to such a tone of voice. I want to hear no more. [Makes a rapid exit.]