Page:Dead Souls - A Poem by Nikolay Gogol - vol2.djvu/215

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BOOK TWO
205

middle of the room, and wrapping her chilled young limbs in a shawl.

Tchitchikov leaped up from his chair with the agility of a military man; he flew up to the lady with a soft expression, with the politeness of a refined civilian made his arm into a loop, offered it to her and led her in state across two rooms to the dining-room, keeping his head agreeably on one side all the time. The servant took the cover off the soup-tureen; they all moved their chairs nearer to the table and began upon the soup.

When he had finished his soup and drunk a glass of home-made cordial (it was excellent cordial), Tchitchikov said to Skudronzhoglo: 'Allow me, honoured sir, to bring you back to the point at which our conversation broke off. I was asking you: what to do, how to proceed, how best to set to work. …'

(Two pages of the manuscript are missing here.)

'If he asked forty thousand for the estate I would pay it him down on the spot.'

'H'm!' Tchitchikov pondered. 'Then why don't you buy it yourself?' he brought out with some diffidence.

'Well, one must know one's limits. I have a great deal to do with my own estates without that. As it is, the gentry of the neighbourhood are all crying out against me, declaring that I take advantage of their difficulties and their ruined position, buying up land for a song. I am sick of it at last.'