'How is it we have not met till now?' was Darya Mihailovna's question.
'That is what surprises me. Have you read this book? _C'est de
Tocqueville, vous savez_?'

And Darya Mihailovna held out the French pamphlet to Rudin.

Rudin took the thin volume in his hand, turned over a few pages of it,
and laying it down on the table, replied that he had not read that
particular work of M. de Tocqueville, but that he had often reflected
on the question treated by him. A conversation began to spring up.
Rudin seemed uncertain at first, and not disposed to speak out freely;
his words did not come readily, but at last he grew warm and began to
speak. In a quarter of an hour his voice was the only sound in the
room, All were crowding in a circle round him.

Only Pigasov remained aloof, in a corner by the fireplace. Rudin spoke
with intelligence, with fire and with judgment; he showed much
learning, wide reading. No one had expected to find in him a
remarkable man. His clothes were so shabby, so little was known of
him. Every one felt it strange and incomprehensible that such a clever
man should have suddenly made his appearance in the country. He seemed
all the more wonderful and, one may even say, fascinating to all of
them, beginning with Darya Mihailovna. She was pluming herself on
having discovered him, and already at this early date was dreaming of
how she would introduce Rudin into the world. In her quickness to
receive impressions there was much that was almost childish, in spite
of her years. Alexandra Pavlovna, to tell the truth, understood little
of all that Rudin said, but was full of wonder and delight; her
brother too was admiring him. Pandalevsky was watching Darya
Mihailovna and was filled with envy. Pigasov thought, 'If I have to