his hand he would say: 'Those damned girls won't let me alone!'
Tchitchikov's horses were also pleased with their new abode. Both the shaft-horse and the bay-coloured trace-horse, known as Assessor, as well as the dappled grey, whom Selifan called 'the rascally horse,' found their sojourn at Tyentyetnikov's anything but tedious. The oats were excellent, and the arrangements of the stables exceptionally convenient, each one had a stall partitioned off, yet through this partition he could see the other horses, so that if any one of them, even the furthest, took a fancy to neigh he could be answered at once.
In short they all felt at home. The reader may be surprised that Tchitchikov had not yet breathed a word in regard to his favourite subject. No, indeed! Pavel Ivanovitch had become very cautious in regard to that subject. Even if he had had to deal with absolute fools he would not have begun upon it quite immediately, and Tyentyetnikov, whatever he might be, read books, talked philosophy and tried to find an explanation of everything that happened and the why and wherefore of everything. … 'No, the devil take him! perhaps I had better begin from another side,' thought Tchitchikov. Chatting from time to time with the servants he learned among other things from them that their master used pretty often to visit his neighbour the general, that there was a young lady at the general's,
