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Updated: June 13, 2025
'And the flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh! 'Tell me, began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with you when you were a child? 'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort. 'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny? 'I am, Arkady. 'How fond they are of you! Bazarov was silent for a little.
The door was flung open, and in the doorway was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen, had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs.
If every other person in all Turgenev's stories should be forgotten, it is safe to say that Bazarov will always dwell in the minds of those who have once made his acquaintance. * It is difficult to find out much about the original of Bazarov.
'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip, answered Bazarov. 'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule that, that's what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you, ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him!
After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly homewards. 'What was he talking about? inquired another peasant of middle age and surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been following his conversation with Bazarov. 'Arrears? eh?
'Why is she talking like that? thought Bazarov. 'All that's not in the least interesting, he uttered aloud, 'especially for you; we are obscure people.... 'And you regard me as an aristocrat? Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov. 'Yes, he said, with exaggerated sharpness. She smiled.
She held out her hand a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure. 'Let bygones be bygones, she said. 'I am all the readier to do so because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams? 'Who remembers them?
You, Yevgeny, I shall of course offer my study. Suum cuique. 'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured, remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much. 'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman, observed Arkady. 'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give us.
Bazarov was in his room. 'Yevgeny! murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here long? 'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you. 'Can any misfortune have happened at home? thought Arkady, and running hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door.
Nikolai Petrovitch with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall, from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style. 'Here we are at home, said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper and rest.
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