'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?'
Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he noticed that his friend was blushing.
'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same opinion—that she's ...'
'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.'
'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady.
'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be hard up!'
'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady.
'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it on the dissecting-table.'
'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.'
'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go to stay with her.'