it is rather thin and long, and in his nervous contortions he carries his head like a heavy weight, giving it the appearance of strange inquisitiveness, restlessness and malignity.

SARAH.

Do you want perhaps a glass of soda-water, sir? It is as hot as in Hell, and if you don't drink, you may die of a sunstroke.

BEZKRAINY.

Real noblemen's cider!

PURIKES.

Violet soda! My God, violet soda!

SARAH.

Soda, seltzer!

BEZKRAINY.

Don't drink her soda-water. From her water rats are dying and roaches stand up on their hind legs.

SARAH.

Ivan, aren't you ashamed to take away a customer? I am not saying anything about your noblemen's cider, which is fit only for mad dogs to drink.

PURIKES.

CONTENTS

Joyously.

A customer! A customer! Please don't buy anything from me, you needn't buy anything from me,—all I want is to look at you. Sonka, do you see? A buyer!

SONKA.

I don't see anything. I can't see.

CONTENTS

 Prev. P 14/153 next