KATYA

(Pushing his hand away) Take all of them, go on.

BELYAEV

No, thank you, Katya. (He gives back the basket) Thank you. (To Vera) Let’s sit on the bench, Vera Alexandrovna. I have to tie the tail on. (Pointing to the kite) You’re going to help me.

They both go and sit on a bench. Belyaev gives her the kite to hold.

That’s right. Keep it straight. (He starts tying on the tail) What’s the matter?

VERA

That way I can’t see you.

BELYAEV

What do you want to see me for?

VERA

I mean, I want to see how you tie the tail on.

BELYAEV

Well, wait a minute. (He places the kite so that Vera can see him) Katya, why aren’t you singing? Sing.

After a little, Katya starts singing in a low voice.

VERA

Tell me, Alexei Nikolaich, do you sometimes fly kites in Moscow, too?

BELYAEV

There’s no time for kites in Moscow! Hold the string . . . like that. Do you think we’ve got nothing else to do in Moscow?

VERA

What do you do in Moscow?

BELYAEV

What do you mean, what? We study, we listen to the professors.

VERA

What do they teach you?

BELYAEV

Everything.

VERA

You must be a very good student. The best of all.

BELYAEV

No, I’m not very good. Hardly the best! I’m lazy.

VERA

How come you’re lazy?

BELYAEV

God knows! I guess I was born that way!

VERA

(After a pause) So, have you got friends in Moscow?

BELYAEV

Sure. Nah, this string’s not strong enough.

VERA

And you like them?

BELYAEV

What else! . . . Don’t you like your friends?

VERA

Friends . . . I have no friends.

BELYAEV

I mean, your girlfriends.

VERA

(Slowly) Yes.

BELYAEV

So you do have girlfriends? . . .

VERA

Yes . . . only, I don’t know why . . . I haven’t thought much about them for a while now . . . I haven’t even written back to Liza Moshnina, and she begged me to in her letter.

BELYAEV

And how can you say you have no men friends . . . what about me?

VERA

(With a smile) Well, you . . . That’s different. (After a pause) Alexei Nikolaich!

BELYAEV

What?

VERA

Do you write poetry?

BELYAEV

No. Why?

VERA

Just asking. (After a pause) A girl in our boarding school wrote poems.

BELYAEV

(Tightening a knot with his teeth) Really! Good ones?

VERA

I don’t know. She’d read them to us and we’d cry.

BELYAEV

Why did you cry?

VERA

From pity. We pitied her so much!

BELYAEV

The school was in Moscow?

VERA

Yes. With Madame Bolus. Natalya Petrovna took me from there last year.

BELYAEV

Do you love Natalya Petrovna?

VERA

Yes. She’s so kind. I love her very much.

BELYAEV

(With a little smile) And I’ll bet you’re also afraid of her?

VERA

(Also with a little smile) A little.

BELYAEV

(After a pause) Who sent you to that school?