'We might.'
'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.'
'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very plausible.'
'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur a suspicion of murder?'
'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.'
'And whom, allow me to inquire?'
'Why, Piotr.'
'What Piotr?'
'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the comilfo (comme il faut) necessary in such cases.'
'I think you are joking, sir.'