book cannot take the place of ... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you remember?'
'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov.
'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice.
He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom. She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen.
'And why stay?' answered Bazarov.
Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed here?'
'I am sure of it.'
Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that. But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?'
'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being missed, and I less than most.'
'Why so?'
