g
like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put
in an ironical word in the conversation--he paid more attention to the
champagne--gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their
hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed
them.

'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously
from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable
personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own
way, an expression of the highest morality.'

'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the
highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which
they were passing at that instant.

Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of
his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at
Bazarov's unexpected familiarity.

CHAPTER XIV

A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch
was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared
to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while
the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly
motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy
Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was
gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a
shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles '_en vrai chevalier
francais_' before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a
hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He
slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed
Bazarov--who was attired in a rather old evening coat--a sidelong
glance in passing--absent but condescending--and an indistinct but
affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and
'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head
already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the
ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her
hair, he said '_enchante_.' There were crowds of people, and no lack of
dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along
the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them
who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring
interjections of the kind of--'_zut_,' '_Ah, fichtr-re_,' '_pst, pst,
mon bibi_,' and such. He prono