The Cherry Orchard
VARYA. Well, you've come, glory be to God. Home again. [Caressing
her] My darling is home again! My pretty one is back again! (1.43)
ANYA. We went to Paris; it's cold there and snowing. I talk French perfectly horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to her, and find her there with various Frenchmen, women, an old abbé with a book, and everything in tobacco smoke and with no comfort at all. I suddenly became very sorry for mother--so sorry that I took her head in my arms and hugged her and wouldn't let her go. Then mother started hugging me and crying. (1.48)
ANYA. How's business? Has the interest been paid?
VARYA. Not much chance of that.
ANYA. Oh God, oh God ...
VARYA. The place will be sold in August.
ANYA. O God. (1.52-56)