“So you are still living in these rooms?” And Schtoltz surveyed the room as he spoke. “Why have you not moved?” “Because I am still here. I do not think the move will ever take place.” “Why are you so sure?” “Because I _am_ sure.” Again Schtoltz eyed him closely, then became thoughtful, and started to pace the room. “And what of Olga Sergievna?” was Oblomov’s next question. “Where is she now, and does she still remember me?” At this point he broke off abruptly. “Yes, she is well, and has of you a remembrance as clear as though she had parted from you yesterday. Presently I will tell you where she is.” “And your children?” “The children too are well. But are you jesting when you say that you are going to remain where you are? My express purpose in coming here is to carry you off to our place in the country.” “No, no!” cried Oblomov, though lowering his voice as he glanced at the door. Evidently the proposal had disturbed him greatly. “Do not say a word about it,” he pleaded. “Do not begin your arguments again.” “But why will you not come? What is the matter with you? You know me well, and know that long ago I undertook this task, and shall never relinquish it. Hitherto business affairs have occupied my time, but now I am free once more. Come and live with us, or, at all events, near us. Olga and I have decided that you _must_ do so. Thank God that I have found you the same as before, and not worse! My hopes of doing that had been small. Let us be off at once. I am prepared even to abduct you by force. You _must_ change your mode of life, as you well know.” To this speech Oblomov listened with impatience. “Do not speak so loudly,” he urged. “In there----” “Well--in there?” “Is the landlady, and, should she hear us, she will think that I am going to leave her.” “And why should you not leave her? Let her think what she likes!” “Listen, Andrei.” Oblomov’s tone was one of unwonted firmness. “Do not continue your useless attempts to persuade me. Come what may, I must remain where I am.” Schtoltz gazed at his friend in astonishment, but Oblomov returned the gaze with quiet resolution on his features. “Remain here, and you are lost,” said Schtoltz. “This house, that woman, this way of living?--I tell you the thing cannot be. Let us go.” He caught Oblomov by the sleeve, and started to drag him towards the door. “Why do you want to take me away?” asked Oblomov, hanging back. “Because I want you to leave this den, this swamp, for the world of light and air and health and normal existence.” Schtoltz was speaking sternly, and almost in a tone of command. “To what point have you sunk?” he went on. “What is going to become of you? Think for a moment. Are you so attached to this mode of life that you wish to go to sleep like a mole in its burrow? Remember that-----”