The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea,
Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced
up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and
he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She
quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It
rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a
walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up
the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess,
as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though
he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he
paid no attention to her.

'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want
to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...'

She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an
expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and
again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances
with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading.

Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed
her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the
delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame
Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the
previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before.

'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence.

'Pelouse et Fremy, _Notions generales_,' answered Bazarov. 'I might
though recommend you also Ganot, _Traite elementaire de physique
experimentale_. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in
general it's a text-book.'

Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg
your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I
wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so
suddenly.... It will not bore you ...'

'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about
last night?'

Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov.

'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By
the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even
when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a
conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of
some measureless happiness exist