the blood" like Lieutenant Byelosov in the "_Frigate Hope_."
Women's hearts were "devoured" by them. The adjective applied to them
in those days was "fatal." The type, as we all know, survived for many
years, to the days of Petchorin. [Footnote: The leading character in
Lermontov's _A Hero of Our Time_.--_Translator's Note_.] All
sorts of elements were mingled in that type. Byronism, romanticism,
reminiscences of the French Revolution, of the Dekabrists--and the
worship of Napoleon; faith in destiny, in one's star, in strength of
will; pose and fine phrases--and a miserable sense of the emptiness of
life; uneasy pangs of petty vanity--and genuine strength and daring;
generous impulses--and defective education, ignorance; aristocratic
airs--and delight in trivial foppery.... But enough of these general
reflections. I promised to tell you the story.

II

Lieutenant Tyeglev belonged precisely to the class of those "fatal"
individuals, though he did not possess the exterior commonly
associated with them; he was not, for instance, in the least like
Lermontov's "fatalist." He was a man of medium height, fairly solid
and round-shouldered, with fair, almost white eyebrows and eyelashes;
he had a round, fresh, rosy-cheeked face, a turn-up nose, a low
forehead with the hair growing thick over the temples, and full,
well-shaped, always immobile lips: he never laughed, never even smiled.
Only when he was tired and out of heart he showed his square teeth,
white as sugar. The same artificial immobility was imprinted on all his
features: had it not been for that, they would have had a good-natured
expression. His small green eyes with yellow lashes were the
only thing not quite ordinary in his face: his right eye was very
slightly higher than his left and the left eyelid drooped a little,