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MÁSHA. I don't gallivant! I love this gentleman, that's all. I've not
left the choir. I'll go on singing, and what ...
IVÁN. Say another word, and I'll pull the hair off your head!...
Slut!... Who behaves like that? Not your father, nor your mother, nor
your aunt!... It's bad, sir! We were fond of you--often and often we
sang to you without pay. We pitied you, and what have you done?
NASTÁSIA. You've ruined our daughter for nothing ... our own, our only
daughter, the light of our eyes, our priceless jewel--you've trodden her
into the mire, that's what you've done! You've no conscience.
FÉDYA. Nastásia Ivánovna, you suspect me falsely. Your daughter is like
a sister to me. I care for her honour. You must think no evil ... but I
love her! What is one to do?
IVÁN. But you didn't love her when you had money! If you'd then
subscribed ten thousand roubles or so to the choir, you might have had
her honourably. But now you've squandered everything, and carry her off
by stealth! It's a shame, sir, a shame!
MÁSHA. He has not carried me off! I came to him myself, and if you take
me away now, I shall come back again. I love him, and there's an end of
it! My love is stronger than all your locks ... I won't!
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