e my relatives!"

What an idea! How can...

"Don't be alarmed, I take all the responsibility upon myself. Imagine,
it's an oasis! Neither politics, literature, nor anything modern ever
penetrates there. The little house is such a squat one, such as one
rarely sees nowadays; the very smell in it is antique; the people
antique, the air antique...whatever you touch is antique, Catherine
II. powder, crinolines, eighteenth century! And the host and hostess...
imagine a husband and wife both very old, of the same age, without a
wrinkle, chubby, round, neat little people, just like two poll-parrots;
and kind to stupidity, to saintliness, there is no end to their
kindness! I am told that excessive kindness is often a sign of moral
weakness.... I cannot enter into these subtleties, but I know that my
dear old people are goodness itself. They never had any children, the
blessed ones! That is what they call them here in the town; blessed
ones! They both dress alike, in a sort of loose striped gown, of such
good material, also a rarity, not to be found nowadays. They are
exactly like one another, except that one wears a mob-cap, the other a
skull-cap, which is trimmed with the same kind of frill, only without
ribbons. If it were not for these ribbons, you would not know one from
the other, as the husband is clean-shaven. One is called Fomishka, the
other Fimishka. I tell you one ought to pay to go and look at them! They
love one another in the most impossible way; and if you ever go to see
them, they welcome you with open arms. And so gracious; they will show
off all their little parlour tricks to amuse you. But there is only
one thing they can't stand, and that is smoking, not because they are
nonconformists, but because it doesn't agree with them.... Of course,
nobody smoked in their time. However, to make up for that, they don't
keep canaries--this bird was also very little known in their day. I'm
sure you'll agree that that's a comfort at any rate! Well? Will you
come?"

"I really don't know," Nejdanov began.

"Wait a moment! I forgot to tell you; their voices, too, are exactly
alike; close your eyes and you can hardly tell which is speaking.
Fomishka, perhaps, speaks just a little more expressively. You are about
to enter on a great undertaking, my dear friends; may be on a terrible
conflict... Why not, before plunging into the stormy deep, take a dip in
to--"

"Stagnant water," Markelov put in.

"Stagnant if you like,