“Oh, Arkady, do me a favour, do let us for once have a really good quarrel – no holds barred, to the death.” “But if we do, it’ll end in... ” “Blows?” Bazarov continued. “What if it does? Here, in the hay, in these idyllic surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men – it doesn’t matter. But you won’t beat me. I’m going to take you now by the throat...”
