In silence, or merely exchanging a few unimportant words, the travellers made their way to Thedot's posting-house. Arkady felt anything but pleased with Bazarov, and Bazarov felt anything but pleased with himself. Moreover, the younger man's heart was heavy with the sort of unreasoning depression which is known only to youth.
The driver hitched his horses, and then, mounting to the box, inquired whether he was to drive to the right or to the left.
Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and thence to his father's house; while the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's establishment.
He glanced at Bazarov.
"To the left, Evgenii?" he queried.
Bazarov turned away his head.
"Why that folly again?" he muttered.
"Folly, I know," said Arkady, "but what does that matter? We need but call in passing."
Bazarov pulled his cap over his eyes.
"Do as you like," he said.