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RUDIN ‘Well, he can’t do anything without that. He buttons his great-coat as if he were fulfilling a sacred duty. I should like to put him on a desert island and look round a corner to see how he would behave there. And he discourses on simplicity!’

‘But tell me, my dear fellow,’ asked Volintsev, ‘what is it, philosophy or what?’

‘How can I tell you? On one side it is philosophy, I daresay, and on the other something altogether different. It is not right to put every folly down to philosophy.’

Volintsev looked at him.

‘Wasn’t he lying then, do you imagine?’

‘No, my son, he wasn’t lying. But, do you know, we’ve talked enough of this. Let’s light our pipes and call Alexandra Pavlovna in here. It’s easier to talk when she’s with us and easier to be silent. She shall make us some tea.’

‘Very well,’ replied Volintsev. ‘Sasha, come in,’ he cried aloud.

Alexandra Pavlovna came in. He grasped her hand and pressed it warmly to his lips.

Rudin returned in a curious and mingled 159