into the sky and all she asks for is money, little presents of money
for throwing open the Gates of Paradise. You don't know yourself, at
all, do you?

MASHA. What's the use of me wondering about myself? I know when I'm in
love, and I know that I sing best when my love is singing.

FEDYA. Do you love me?

MASHA (murmuring). I love you.

FEDYA. But I am a married man, and you belong to this gypsy troupe.
They wouldn't let you leave it, and--

MASHA (interrupting). The troupe's one thing, and my heart's another.
I love those I love, and I hate those I hate.

FEDYA. Oh, you must be happy to be like that.

MASHA. I'm always happy when handsome gentlemen come and say nice
things to me. (Gypsies stop singing.)

[A GYPSY entering speaks to FEDYA.

GYPSY. Some one asking for you.

FEDYA. Who?

Gypsy. Don't know. He's rich, though. Fur coat.