fall in love with women like that.'

'Really?'

'Certainly. Such women are at least fresh, and freshness cannot be
put on.'

'And can everything else?' Rudin asked, and he laughed--a thing which
rarely happened with him. When he laughed his face assumed a strange,
almost aged appearance, his eyes disappeared, his nose was wrinkled
up.

'And who is this queer creature, as you call him, to whom Madame Lipin
is not indifferent?' he asked.

'A certain Lezhnyov, Mihailo Mihailitch, a landowner here.'

Rudin seemed astonished; he raised his head.

'Lezhnyov--Mihailo Mihailitch?' he questioned. 'Is he a neighbour
of yours?'

'Yes. Do you know him?'

Rudin did not speak for a minute.

'I used to know him long ago. He is a rich man, I suppose?' he added,
pulling the fringe on his chair.

'Yes, he is rich, though he dresses shockingly, and drives in a racing