though you do maintain that all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.'
'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right; perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty, live in the country?'
'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With my ... beauty?'
Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?'
'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some way?'
'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease, and very indifferent to everything else.'
Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe that I am capable of being carried away by anything?'
Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows.
