Sonia. He is writing in Uncle Vanya’s room. I am glad Uncle Vanya has gone out, I want to talk to you about something.
Helena. About what?
Sonia. About what?
Helena. [Stroking her hair] There, there, that will do, Don’t, Sonia.
Sonia. I am ugly!
Helena. You have lovely hair.
Sonia. Don’t say that! [She turns to look at herself in the glass] No, when a woman is ugly they always say she has beautiful hair or eyes. I have loved him now for six years; I have loved him more than one loves one’s mother. I seem to hear him beside me every moment of the day. I feel the pressure of his hand on mine. If I look up, I seem to see him coming, and as you see, I run to you to talk of him. He is here every day now, but he never looks at me, he does not notice my presence. It is agony. I have absolutely no hope, no, no hope. Oh, my God! Give me strength to endure. I prayed all last night. I often go up to him and speak to him and look into his eyes. My pride is gone. I am not mistress of myself. Yesterday I told Uncle Vanya. I couldn’t control myself, and all the servants know it. Every one knows that I love him.
Helena. Does he?
Sonia. No, he never notices me.
Helena. [Thoughtfully] He is a strange man. Listen, Sonia, will you allow me to speak to him? I shall be careful, only hint. [A pause] Really, to be in uncertainty all these years! Let me do it!
Sonia nods an affirmative.
Helena. Splendid! It will be easy to find out whether
