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KOROTKÓV. The gipsy. She's in love with him, like a cat.
STÁKHOV. What a darling she is ...! And how she sings!
AFRÉMOV. Charming! Tanyúsha and she! They sang with Peter yesterday.
STÁKHOV. What a lucky fellow that is!
AFRÉMOV. Why? Because the girls are all sweet on him? Not much luck in
that!
KOROTKÓV. I can't bear gipsies--nothing refined about them.
BUTKÉVICH. No, you can't say that!
KOROTKÓV. I'd give the whole lot for one French woman!
AFRÉMOV. Yes, we know you--and your æsthetics!... I'll go and see who it
is. [Exit].
STÁKHOV. If it's Másha, bring her in here! We'll make her sing.... No,
the gipsies aren't what they used to be. Tanyúsha, now--by Gad!
BUTKÉVICH. And I believe they're just the same.
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