Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume XIV).djvu/61

Rh She sighed. 'No, no child. Is it likely?' And her tears flowed faster than ever.

'And so that was how Misha's troubled wanderings had ended,' the old man P. wound up his narrative. 'You will agree with me, I am sure, that I'm right in calling him a desperate character; but you will most likely agree too that he was not like the desperate characters of to-day; still, a philosopher, you must admit, would find a family likeness between him and them. In him and in them there's the thirst for self-destruction, the wretchedness, the dissatisfaction. And what it all comes from, I leave the philosopher to decide.'

, November 1881.