LISA. I know he wouldn't! I have thought about it, and have asked myself that question. I have thought of it, and have spoken of it to him. But what can I do, when he says he does not wish to live without me? I said to him: "Let us be friends, but do not spoil your life; do not bind your pure life to my unfortunate one!" But he does not wish for that. ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. No, not at present.... LISA. Persuade him to leave me, and I will agree. I love him for his own happiness and not for mine. Only help me! Do not hate me! Let us lovingly work together for his happiness! ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. Yes, yes! I have grown fond of you. [Kisses her. Lisa cries] And yet, and yet it is dreadful! If only he had loved you before you married ... LISA. He says he did love me then, but did not wish to prevent a friend's happiness. ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. Ah, how hard it all is! Still, we will love one another, and God will help us to find what we want. VICTOR [entering] Mother, dear! I have heard everything! I expected this: you are fond of her, and all will be well! LISA. I am sorry you heard. I should not have said it if ... ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. Still, nothing is settled. All I can say is, that if it were not for all these unfortunate circumstances, I should have been glad. [Kisses her]. VICTOR. Only, please don't change! Curtain. SCENE 2 A plainly furnished room; bed, table, sofa. Fédya alone. _A knock at the door. A woman's voice outside._ Why have you locked yourself in, Theodore Vasílyevich? Fédya! Open ...! FÉDYA [gets up and unlocks door] That's right! Thank you for coming. It's dull, terribly dull! MÁSHA. Why didn't you come to us? Been drinking again? Eh, eh! And after you'd promised! FÉDYA. D'you know, I've no money! MÁSHA. And why have I taken it into my head to care for you! FÉDYA. Másha! MÁSHA. Well, what about "Másha, Másha"? If you were really in love, you'd have got a divorce long ago. They themselves asked you to. You say you don't love her, but all the same you keep to her! I see you don't wish ... FÉDYA. But you know why I don't wish! MÁSHA. That's all rubbish. People say quite truly that you're an empty fellow. FÉDYA. What can I say to you? That your words hurt me, you know without being told! MÁSHA. Nothing hurts you! FÉDYA. You know that the one joy I have in life is your love. MÁSHA. _My_ love--yes; but yours doesn't exist. FÉDYA. All right. I'm not going to assure you. Besides, what's the good? You know! MÁSHA. Fédya; why torment me? FÉDYA. Which of us torments? MÁSHA [cries] You are unkind! FÉDYA [goes up and embraces her] Másha! What's it all about? Stop that. One must live, and not whine. It doesn't suit you at all, my lovely one! MÁSHA. You do love me? FÉDYA. Whom else could I love? MÁSHA. Only me? Well then, read what you have been writing. FÉDYA. It will bore you. MÁSHA. It's you who wrote it, so it's sure to be good.