She strolls over to Squeezer and strokes the matted hair of the dog, resting her
hand upon his back.
Natalya: You’re such a good boy. Much better than this rubbish lying next to you.
Lomov: Watch it! Why do you have to speak so harshly around Guess?
Natalya: What does it matter? He probably can’t hear me anyway. That hound is nothing
more than a pile of rubbish. RUBBISH. RUBBISH RUBBISH.
Natalya gets up and does a little dance around Squeezer while constantly repeating the
word rubbish.