[_The Baron follows Kvashnya, whistling._]
SATINE [_sitting up in his bunk_] Who beat me up yesterday?
BUBNOFF. Does it make any difference who?
SATINE. Suppose they did--but why did they?
THE ACTOR [_raising his head from the top of the stove_] One of these days they'll beat you to death!
THE ACTOR [_after a silence_] I don't understand--
KLESHTCH. Say! You crawl from that stove--and start cleaning house! Don't play the delicate primrose!
KLESHTCH. Wait till Vassilisa comes--she'll show you whose business it is!
THE ACTOR. To hell with Vassilisa! To-day is the Baron's turn to clean. . . . Baron!
THE BARON. I've no time to clean . . . I'm going to market with Kvashnya.
THE ACTOR. That doesn't concern me. Go to the gallows if you like. It's your turn to sweep the floor just the same--I'm not going to do other people's work . . .
THE BARON. Go to blazes! Nastya will do it. Hey there--fatal love! Wake up! [_Takes the book away from Nastya_]
NASTYA [_getting up_] What do you want? Give it back to me! You scoundrel! And that's a nobleman for you!
THE BARON [_returning the book to her_] Nastya! Sweep the floor for me--will you?
NASTYA [_goes to kitchen_] Not so's you'll notice it!
KVASHNYA [_to the Baron through kitchen door_] Come on--you! They don't need you! Actor! You were asked to do it, and now you go ahead and attend to it--it won't kill you . . .
THE ACTOR. It's always I . . . I don't understand why. . . .
[_The Baron comes from the kitchen, across his shoulders a wooden beam from which hang earthen pots covered with rags._]
SATINE. It paid you to be born a Baron, eh?
KVASHNYA [_to Actor_] See to it that you sweep up! [_Crosses to outer door, letting the Baron pass ahead_]
THE ACTOR [_climbing down from the stove_] It's bad for me to inhale dust. [_With pride_] My organism is poisoned with alcohol. [_Sits down on a bunk, meditating_]
ANNA. Kvashnya left me some dumplings over there--you eat them!
KLESHTCH [_coming over to her_] And you--don't you want any?
ANNA. No. Why should I eat? You're a workman--you need it.
KLESHTCH. Frightened, are you? Don't be! You'll get all right!
ANNA. Go and eat! It's hard on me. . . . I suppose very soon . . .
KLESHTCH [_walking away_] Never mind--maybe you'll get well--you can never tell! [_Goes into kitchen_]