brought this gentleman, a
doctor, to you.'

Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.'

'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with
the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since
Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone,
and we will have a little consultation.'

Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in
Latin; you see, I know the meaning of _jam moritur_.'

'_Der Herr scheint des Deutschen maechtig zu sein_,' began the new
follower of Aesculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.

'_Ich_ ... _gabe_ ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man.

'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation
began.

Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch,
came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it
was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery.

She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly
was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face,
with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a
sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not
have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously
through her brain.

'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of
mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.'

'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ...

'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy,
now?'

With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame.

Vassily Ivanovitch went out.

'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they
say, visit the dying too.'

'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope----'

'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm
under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the
future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far
I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's
all up!----' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to
you ... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less
than ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking
up. Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so
beautiful ...'

Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder.