"Good-day to you, batiushka!" had responded the old man with a gleeful smile which had covered his face with wrinkles.
"And how is it that I see you here?" Bazarov had continued. "Is it that they have sent you to fetch me?"
"By no means, pardon me, batiushka!" Timotheitch had stammered out this denial for the reason that he had suddenly recollected certain strict injunctions imposed upon him before starting. "No, it is merely that I am on my way to the town on affairs connected with the estate, and turned aside a little to pay my respects to your honour. No, not to disturb you at all—oh dear no!"
"Do not lie," Bazarov had said. "Is this the way to the town?"
Timotheitch, cringing, had returned no reply.
"And how is my father?" Bazarov had continued.
"Quite well, thank God!"
"And my mother?"
"Your mother is the same, thank God!"
"And they are, I suppose, expecting me?"