Free Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev

education?’ Bazarov continued. ‘Every man should educate himself – like me, for example… And the period – why should
     I depend on a period? It can depend on me. No, my friend, it’s nothing but decadence and frivolity! And what of those mysterious
     relations between man and woman? We physiologists know all about those relations. Just go and study the anatomy of the eye:
     where does that enigmatic gaze you’re talking about come from? It’s all romanticism, nonsense, decay, artist’s trickery. Better
     come and look at a beetle.’
    And the two friends went off to Bazarov’s room, which had
already developed a kind of surgical smell, mixed with that of cheap tobacco.

VIII
    Pavel Petrovich didn’t stay very long during his brother’s conversation with the bailiff. The bailiff, a tall, thin man with
     a saccharine, feeble voice and dishonest eyes, answered all Nikolay Petrovich’s remarks with ‘Most certainly, sir, that’s
     no news to me, sir,’ and tried to cast the peasants as drunkards and thieves. The estate, which had recently been put on the
     new basis, squeaked liked a wheel that hadn’t been oiled, cracked like home-made furniture made of unseasoned wood. Nikolay
     Petrovich didn’t lose heart but quite often would sigh and get abstracted in thought: he felt that things wouldn’t work without
     money, but he had almost run out of funds. Arkady had been telling the truth: Pavel Petrovich had more than once helped his
     brother; more than once, seeing how he was struggling and racking his brain for a way out, Pavel Petrovich slowly went up
     to a window and, putting his hands in his pockets, muttered through his teeth: ‘
Mais je puis te donner de l’argent
’ 1 – and gave money to him; but on this particular day he himself didn’t have any and he thought it better to remove himself.
     Domestic unpleasantness made him feel depressed; he also very often thought that Nikolay Petrovich, for all his keenness and
     diligence, didn’t have the right approach to things, though he couldn’t have pointed out where Nikolay Petrovich was making
     mistakes. ‘My brother isn’t practical enough,’ he used to say to himself, ‘people cheat him.’ On the other hand Nikolay Petrovich
     had a high opinion of Pavel Petrovich’s practical sense and always asked his advice. ‘I am soft and weak, I’ve lived all my
     life in the sticks,’ he used to say, ‘but you’ve lived a lot among people, and it shows, you know them well: you have an eagle’s
     gaze.’ In response to these words Pavel Petrovich only turned away, but he didn’t disabuse his brother.
    He left Nikolay Petrovich in his study and walked along the
corridor which divided the front part of the house from the back. When he got to a low door he hesitated and stopped, tugged
     his moustache and knocked.
    ‘Who is that? Come in.’ It was Fenechka’s voice.
    ‘It’s me,’ said Pavel Petrovich and opened the door.
    Fenechka jumped quickly off the chair on which she had been sitting with the baby and, handing him to a girl, who at once
     carried him out of the room, she hastily adjusted her kerchief.
    ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you,’ Pavel Petrovich began, not looking at her. ‘I just wanted to ask you… I think they’re sending
     to town today… Could you ask them to buy me some green tea?’
    ‘Of course,’ answered Fenechka. ‘How much do you want?’
    ‘I suppose half a pound will be enough. But I see you’ve had changes here,’ he added, with a quick look round the room, which
     also took in Fenechka’s face. ‘These curtains,’ he said, seeing she didn’t understand him.
    ‘Yes, the curtains. Nikolay Petrovich gave them to us. They’ve been up a while.’
    ‘But it’s a long time since I’ve been in your room. It’s very nice here now.’
    ‘Thanks to Nikolay Petrovich,’ Fenechka whispered.
    ‘Are you more comfortable here than in the wing where you were?’ asked Pavel Petrovich politely, but