Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume X).djvu/218

Rh imagined it all, that there could be really no resemblance, that I had given way to a half-unconscious trick of the imagination. . . but the stranger would suddenly turn round a little in his seat, or slightly raise his hand, and again I all but cried out, again I saw my 'dream-father' before me! He at last noticed my uncalled-for attention, and glancing at first with surprise and then with annoyance in my direction, was on the point of getting up, and knocked down a small walking-stick he had stood against the table. I instantly jumped up, picked it up, and handed it to him. My heart was beating violently. He gave a constrained smile, thanked me, and as his face drew closer to my face, he lifted his eyebrows and opened his mouth a little as though struck by something. 'You are very polite, young man,' he began all at once in a dry, incisive, nasal voice. 'That 's something out of the common nowadays. Let me congratulate you; you must have been well brought up?'

I don't remember precisely what answer I made; but a conversation soon sprang up between us. I learnt that he was a fellow-countryman, that he had not long returned from America, where he had spent many years, and was shortly going back there. He called