VARINKA. Carry him, uncle.
PATIOMKIN [lifting him in his arms like a father carrying a little boy].
Yes: I'll carry you.
EDSTASTON. Dash it all, this is ridiculous!
VARINKA [seizing his ankles and dancing as he is carried out]. You must
come. If you kick you will blacken my eyes.
PATIOMKIN. Come, baby, come.
By this time they have made their way through the door and are out of
hearing.