Kocianova.—Is that possible—that big one? And she plays parts there, does she not?
Maya.—It’s funny, isn’t it? And almost ten years now.
Kocianova.—That must be an odd calling. And don’t you find it hard?
Maya.—That is how I make my living.
Petr.—That’s why I could not recognize Miss. She introduced herself by her stage name.
Kocianova (confused).—And has she a different name now than she had then?
Maya.—You see, Mrs. Kocianova, at first I did not want to play under my own name, because so many people knew my father, and now I am better used to the other name.
Kocianova (surprised).—Why, is that possible?
Maya (lightly).—Why not? To-day no one knows me by the old name.
Petr.—About such things we have no idea, maminka.
Kocianova (quietly).—We have not, to be sure. (After a while.) But you must come inside, Miss. Brother will be surprised, I tell you!
Maya.—Really, I hardly feel like leaving this yard. Why, we used to stay here from morning till night. Here on the threshold, there on the bench and there under the trees. Out into the hall I was almost afraid to go on account of those big black pictures.
Kocianova.—Could I offer you a glass of our cream?
Maya.—Your cream? If you please, Mrs. Kocianova. Poor father, for many years he used to say, “There is nothing like that cream from Luschitz.”
Kocianova.—So come right inside, Miss, right inside. Go, Petrichek, and take the Miss inside, I’ll go and get something.
Maya (jolly).—But wait, Mrs. Kocianova, I will go in alone. I’ll appear before the pater in the same way that I appeared before Mr. Petr. I wonder if he will know me. (Laughs.) Do you know, Mrs. Kocianova, that Petr kept on calling me “madam,” before he recognized me. Well, well—who is to blame that I am not married?
Kocianova.—The young lady is nothing but jolliness. Well, then, as you like. Brother is in the hall to the right. Do you remember the way?
Maya (lightly).—I wonder what I could say to him, so he would not know me. Well, I’ll try to think of something. I will be out
