'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to
me; you know, my illness is catching.'

Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair
near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.

'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh,
and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long,
that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time.
You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing
still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I
wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a
giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently,
though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm
not going to turn tail.'

Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna
Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing
her breath timorously.

'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the
living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's
nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort
the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't
to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a
candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed.
And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the
butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm
getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...'

Bazarov put his hand to his brow.

Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...'

He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.

'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their
last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you
then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...'

Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.

'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ...
darkness ...'

Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in
a whisper.

'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not
fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness,
and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites
of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction,
when the holy oil touched his breas