buy anything in his shop; he puts all sorts of rubbish into his wine, sandalwood, burnt cork, and even colours it with elderberries, the rogue: but if he brings out from some remote place they call the special room, some choice little bottle, well then, old boy, you will find yourself in the empyrean. We had champagne … what was the governor's compared with it?—no better than cider. Just fancy, not Cliquot but a special Cliquot-Matradura which means double Cliquot. And he got us a bottle of French wine too, called Bon-bon, with a fragrance!—of roses and anything you like! Didn't we have a roaring time! A prince who came after us sent to the shop for champagne, there wasn't a bottle to be had in the town: the officers had drunk it all. Would you believe it, I drank seventeen bottles of champagne myself at dinner!'
'Come, you can't drink seventeen bottles,' observed the fair man.
'As a man of honour I tell you I did,' answered Nozdryov.
'You can tell yourself what you like, but I tell you that you can't drink ten.'
'Well, would you like to bet I can't?'
'Bet for what?'
'Well, bet me the gun that you bought in the town.'
'I won't.'
'Oh, do bet it, try!'
'I don't want to try.'
'Yes, you would lose your gun if you did, as you
