have made your daughter happy, and if you don't give me the tickets
to-day I'll make short work of her. I'm an honourable man!

NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Looks round the table and counts up the
covers] One, two, three, four, five ...

A WAITER. The cook asks if you would like the ices served with rum,
madeira, or by themselves?

APLOMBOV. With rum. And tell the manager that there's not enough
wine. Tell him to prepare some more Haut Sauterne. [To NASTASYA
TIMOFEYEVNA] You also promised and agreed that a general was to be
here to supper. And where is he?

NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. That isn't my fault, my dear.

APLOMBOV. Whose fault, then?

NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. It's Andrey Andreyevitch's fault. ...
Yesterday he came to see us and promised to bring a perfectly real
general. [Sighs] I suppose he couldn't find one anywhere, or he'd
have brought him. ... You think we don't mind? We'd begrudge our
child nothing. A general, of course ...

APLOMBOV. But there's more. ... Everybody, including yourself,
_maman_, is aware of the fact that Yats, that telegraphist, was
after Dashenka before I proposed to her. Why did you invite him?
Surely you knew it would be unpleasant for me?

NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Oh, how can you? Epaminond Maximovitch was