PATIOMKIN. Why not? She won't eat you.

VARINKA. She will; but you must come.

EDSTASTON. I assure you--it is quite out of the question--my
clothes--

VARINKA. You look perfect.

PATIOMKIN. Come along, darling.

EDSTASTON [struggling]. Impossible--

VARINKA. Come, come, come.

EDSTASTON. No. Believe me--I don't wish--I--

VARINKA. Carry him, uncle.

PATIOMKIN [lifting him in his arms like a father carrying a
little boy]. Yes: I'll carry you.

EDSTASTON. Dash it all, this is ridiculous!

VARINKA [seizing his ankles and dancing as he is carried out].
You must come. If you kick you will blacken my eyes.

PATIOMKIN. Come, baby, come.

By this time they have made their way through the door and are