HELENA. [Stroking her hair] There, there, that will do. Don't,
Sonia.

SONIA. I am ugly!

HELENA. You have lovely hair.

SONIA. Don't say that! [She turns to look at herself in the
glass] No, when a woman is ugly they always say she has beautiful
hair or eyes. I have loved him now for six years, I have loved
him more than one loves one's mother. I seem to hear him beside
me every moment of the day. I feel the pressure of his hand on
mine. If I look up, I seem to see him coming, and as you see, I
run to you to talk of him. He is here every day now, but he never
looks at me, he does not notice my presence. It is agony. I have
absolutely no hope, no, no hope. Oh, my God! Give me strength to
endure. I prayed all last night. I often go up to him and speak
to him and look into his eyes. My pride is gone. I am not
mistress of myself. Yesterday I told Uncle Vanya I couldn't
control myself, and all the servants know it. Every one knows
that I love him.

HELENA. Does he?

SONIA. No, he never notices me.

HELENA. [Thoughtfully] He is a strange man. Listen, Sonia, will
you allow me to speak to him? I shall be careful, only hint. [A
pause] Really, to be in uncertainty all these years! Let me do
it!