PIKE [in the voice of a convalescent].  I never had any business to leave Indiana!

VASILI.  I am sorry, my friend.

[PIKE takes another large forkful of caviar.]

VASILI [observing this].  But I thought you did not like the caviar?

PIKE.  It’s to take away the taste of the vodka.

VASILI [laughing].  I lift my hat to you.

PIKE.  You never worked on a farm in your own country, Doc?

VASILI.  That has been denied me.

PIKE.  I expect so.  Talk about things to drink!  Harvest-time, and the women folks coming out from the house with a two-gallon jug of ice-cold buttermilk!

[Sets down the glass and whistles softly with delight.]

[HORACE shows increasing signs of annoyance.]

VASILI.  You still enjoy those delights?

PIKE.  Not since I moved up to our county-seat ten years ago and began to practice law.  Things don’t taste the same in the city.

VASILI.  You do not like your city?

PIKE [not with braggadocio, but earnestly, almost pathetically].  Like it?  Well, sir, for public buildings and architecture, I wouldn’t trade our State insane asylum for the worst-ruined ruin in Europe—­not for hygiene and real comfort.

VASILI.  And your people?

PIKE.  The best on earth.  Out my way folks are neighbors.

[HORACE snaps his paper sharply.]

VASILI.  But you have no leisure class.

[VASILI is looking keenly at HAWCASTLE and HORACE as he speaks.]

PIKE.  Got a pretty good-sized colored population.

VASILI.  I mean no aristocracy—­no great old families such as we have, that go back and back to the Middle Ages.

PIKE [genially].  Well, I expect if they go back that far they might just as well set down and stay there.  No, sir, the poor in my country don’t have to pay taxes for a lot of useless kings and earls and first grooms of the bedchamber and second ladies in waiting, and I don’t know what all.  If anybody wants our money for nothin’ he has to show energy enough to steal it.  I wonder a man like you doesn’t emigrate.

VASILI.  Bravo!

HAWCASTLE [to HORACE].  Your countryman seems to be rather down on us!

HORACE.  This fellow is distinctly of the lower orders.  We should cut him as completely in the States as here.

VASILI.  I wonder you make this long journey, my friend, instead of to spend your holiday at home.

PIKE.  Holiday!  Why, I never had time even to go to Niagara Falls!

VASILI [to MARIANO].  Finito!

[Sets his napkin carelessly on table and lights a Russian cigarette.]

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY.  What is it he does with his serviette?

PIKE [moving his chair back from the table slightly, and folding his napkin].  No, sir, you wouldn’t catch me puttin’ in any time in these old kingdoms unless I had to.