"I should deem it the greatest pleasure!" cried Arkady.
"And you, Monsieur Bazarov?"
Bazarov merely bowed: which again surprised Arkady, while also he noticed that his friend's face looked flushed.
"Well?" the younger man said as the pair issued into the street. "Are you still of the opinion that she is, is——?"
"I cannot say. But what an icicle she has made of herself!" There was a pause. "At all events, she is an imposing personage, a grande dame who lacks but a train to her gown and a coronet to her head."
"But none of our grandes dames speak Russian as she does," remarked Arkady.
"No; for she has undergone a rebirth, and eaten of our bread."
"And what a charm is hers!"
"You mean, what a splendid body—the very thing for a dissecting theatre!"
"Stop, stop, for God's sake! Her body differs from all other women's."