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426 it, I think; I mean, it seems to me" (he corrected his Americanism) "that the Russian people ought to see themselves in the same situation: according to my way of looking at it, they too have too much to do; but, in reality, I see exactly the opposite in the Russians; they are very much disposed to reserve. Even the English cannot equal them in this respect. Englishmen are known all over Europe, including Russia, to be the most gloomy people in the world, but they are as much more sociable, lively, and gay than the Russians, as they themselves are behind the French in this respect, and your tourists tell you how reserved English society is. I don't understand where their eyes are when they look at themselves."

"And the Russians are right in being gloomy," said Katerina Vasílyevna; "what chance do they have for activity? They have nothing to do! They have to sit and fold their hands. Give me something to do, and the chances are that I shall not be melancholy."

"You want to find something to do? Oh, there ought not to be any obstacle to that; you see all around you such ignorance; excuse me for speaking so about your country, about your fatherland" (again he corrected his Anglicism); "but I was born here myself, and grew up here; I look upon it as my own, and therefore I don't stand upon ceremony; you see in it genuine Turkish ignorance, Chinese helplessness. 'I detest your fatherland because I love it as my own,' I will say, imitating your poet; but there are great opportunities."

"Yes, but what can a man, much less, what can a woman, do?"

"But you are doing something, Kátya," said Pólozof.—"I am going to expose her secret, Karl Yakovlitch. She teaches little girls because she hasn't anything else to do. Every day she has her pupils, and she is busy with them from ten o'clock till one, and sometimes even longer."

Beaumont looked up at Katerina Vasílyevna with respect. "This is our style in America; of course by America I mean only the Northern free States. The Southern States are worse than Mexico, almost as bad as Brazil." Beaumont was an ardent abolitionist. "This is in our style," he repeated; "and if this is so, why be lonesome?"

"Is this a serious undertaking, Mr. Beaumont? It seems to me merely a recreation; perhaps I may be mistaken; maybe you will call me a materialist."