"Or at all events your informant's meaning escapes me. Madame is nice, but as cold and formal as, as——"
"As a stagnant pool," concluded Bazarov. "Yes, we all know the sort of thing. You say that she is cold, but that is purely a matter of taste. Perhaps you yourself like ice?"
"Perhaps I do," the other muttered. "But of such things I am no judge; and in any case she wishes to make your acquaintance as well as mine, and has asked me to bring you with me to call."
"The description of me which you gave is easily imagined! On the other hand, you did rightly to offer her us both, for no matter who she may be—whether a provincial lioness or only an 'émancipée' like the Kukshin woman, she has at least such a pair of shoulders as I have not seen this many a day."
Arkady recoiled from this cynicism, yet, as often happens in such cases, started to reproach his friend for something wholly unconnected with the utterance which had given umbrage.
"Why do you refuse women freedom of thought?" he asked under his breath.
"For the reason, dear sir, that, according to my observation of life, no woman, unless she be a freak, thinks with freedom."
And here the conversation terminated, for supper had come to an end, and the friends departed. As they left the room Madame Kukshin followed them with a nervous and wrathful, yet slightly apprehensive, smile in her eyes. The reason of this was that she felt wounded in her conceit at the fact that neither of the young men had taken any notice of her. Nevertheless, she remained at the ball until most of the rest of the company had left; whereafter, it being four o'clock in the morning, she danced a polka-mazurka, à la Parisienne, with Sitnikov, and with this edifying spectacle brought the Governor's fête to a close.