ften falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it;
and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!'
Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn
her head.) 'If I could hope ...'

'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the
clear voice of Anna Sergyevna.

Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes
that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking
along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but
they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very
breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood
still just opposite the temple.

'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are
both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are
tired; we are both--why affect not to know it?--clever; at first we
interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...'

'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov.

'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however,
it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point;
there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We
did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...'

'So you need him?' queried Bazarov.

'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me,
and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his
aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think
more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special
charm ...'

'The word _fascination_ is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov
interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his
choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with
me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a
serious symptom.'

'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and
I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such
intimacy between them.'

'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov
brought out, drawling.

'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a
strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I
should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at
the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.'

'In