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Bazaroff's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows. Madame Odintsov did not answer him. "I am afraid of this man," flashed through her brain. "Good-bye, then," said Bazaroff, as though he guessed her thought, and he went back into the house. II Bazaroff's Home-Coming From the scene of his discomfiture Bazaroff fled to his own house, taking Arkady with him.
He was smoking a long pipe and screwing up his eyes to keep the sun out of them. The horses stopped. "Arrived at last," said Bazaroff's father, still going on smoking, though the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. "Enyusha, Enyusha," was heard a trembling woman's voice.
"What does this mean?" he asked, rushing to the side of his brother. "It is nothing," answered Pavel Petrovitch, faintly. "I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazaroff, and I have had to pay for it a little. I am the only person to blame in all this.... Mr. Bazaroff has behaved most honourably." After that incident Bazaroff's stay in the house any longer was an impossibility.
At last he could keep back the words no longer. As in a broken voice he begged his son to see a priest, a strange look came over Bazaroff's face. "I won't refuse if that can be any comfort to you, but I'll wait a little." There was the sound of carriage wheels outside. Vassily Ivanovitch rushed to the door.
That night he knocked at Bazaroff's door, and, gaining admittance, begged in his most delicate manner for five minutes' conversation. "I want to hear your views on the subject of duelling," he said. Bazaroff, for once, was taken by surprise. "My view is," he said at last, "that I should not, in practice, allow myself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction."
"I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time," she declared, with an unconscious gesture. "Anything may happen!" answered Bazaroff, and he bowed and went away. IV. The Passing of Bazaroff Bazaroff's old parents were all the more overjoyed at their son's arrival, as it was quite unexpected.
"Your words save me from rather a deplorable necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you." Bazaroff opened his eyes wide. "Me?" "Undoubtedly." "What for, pray?" "I cannot endure you; to my idea your presence here is superfluous, I despise you; and if that is not enough for you..." Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered.... Bazaroff's, too, were flashing.
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