"Yes, I have met you before, Bazarov," she repeated (like many other contemporary females of Moscow and the provinces, she had adopted the fashion of calling men by their surnames alone on first introduction). "Will you have a cigar?"
"I thank you," interposed Sitnikov (who had deposited his person in an armchair, and crossed his legs). "Also, pray give us some luncheon, for we are absolutely ravenous. Also, you might order us a bottle of champagne."
"You Sybarite!" exclaimed Evdoksia with a smile (a smile always brought her upper gum prominently into view). "Is he not, Bazarov?"
"No; it is merely that I love the comforts of life," protested Sitnikov pompously. "Nor need that in any way prevent me from being a Liberal."
"But it does, it does," cried Evdoksia. However, she gave orders to her servant to see both to the luncheon and to the champagne. "What is your opinion on the matter?" she added, turning to Bazarov. "I feel convinced that you share mine."
"No, I do not," he replied. "On the contrary, I think that, even from the chemical point of view, a piece of meat is better than a piece of bread."
"Then you study chemistry?" she exclaimed. "Chemistry is my passion also. In fact, I have invented a special liniment."
"A liniment? You?"
"Yes, I. And please guess its use. It is for making unbreakable dolls and pipe-bowls. You see that, like yourself, I am of a practical turn of mind. But, as yet, I have not completed my course of study. It still remains for me to read up my Liebig. Apropos, have you seen an article in the Viedomosti on Woman's Work—an article by Kisliakov? If not, you should read it (for I presume that you take an interest in the Feminine Question, and also in the Question of the Schools?). But what is your friend's line? Apropos, what is his name?"
These questions Madame Kukshin, as it were, mouthed, and did so with an affected carelessness which waited for no reply, even as a spoilt child propounds conundrums to its nurse.