Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume VII).djvu/72

 had pictured Solomin to herself as utterly different, before his visit. At first sight he had struck her as somehow undefined, lacking in individuality. She had seen plenty of fair-haired, sinewy, thin men like that, she told herself! But the more she watched him, the more she listened to what he said, the stronger grew her feeling of confidence in him—confidence was just what it was.

This calm, heavy, not to say clumsy man was not only incapable of lying or bragging; one might rely on him, like a stone wall. He would not betray one; more than that, he would understand one and support one. Marianna even fancied that this was not only her feeling—that Solomin was producing the same effect on every one present. To what he said, she attached no special significance; all this talk of merchants and factories had little interest for her; but the way he talked, the way he looked and smiled as he talked, she liked immensely.