ic Prosecutor, and Chichikov were too
taken aback to reply. The half-tipsy Nozdrev, without noticing them,
continued his harangue as before.

"Ah, my fine sir!" he cried. "THIS time I don't mean to let you go. No,
not until I have learnt what all this purchasing of dead peasants means.
Look here. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Yes, _I_ say that--_I_
who am one of your best friends." Here he turned to the Governor
again. "Your Excellency," he continued, "you would never believe what
inseperables this man and I have been. Indeed, if you had stood there
and said to me, 'Nozdrev, tell me on your honour which of the two you
love best--your father or Chichikov?' I should have replied, 'Chichikov,
by God!'" With that he tackled our hero again, "Come, come, my friend!"
he urged. "Let me imprint upon your cheeks a baiser or two. You will
excuse me if I kiss him, will you not, your Excellency? No, do not
resist me, Chichikov, but allow me to imprint at least one baiser upon
your lily-white cheek." And in his efforts to force upon Chichikov what
he termed his "baisers" he came near to measuring his length upon the
floor.

Every one now edged away, and turned a deaf ear to his further
babblings; but his words on the subject of the purchase of dead souls
had none the less been uttered at the top of his voice, and been
accompanied with such uproarious laughter that the curiosity even of
those who had happened to be sitting or standing in the remoter corners
of the room had been aroused. So strange and novel seemed the idea that
the company stood with faces expressive of nothing but a dumb, dull
wonder. Only some of the ladies (as Chichikov did not fail to remark)
exchanged meaning, ill-natured winks and a series of sarcastic smiles:
which circumstance still further increased his confusion. That Nozdrev
was a notorious liar every one, of course, knew, and that he should have
given vent to an idiotic outburst of this sort had surprised no one; but
a dead soul--well, what was one to make of Nozdrev's reference to such a
commodity?

Naturally this unseemly contretemps had greatly upset our hero; for,
however foolish be a madman's words, they may yet prove sufficient to
sow doubt in the minds of saner individuals. He felt much as does a
man who, shod with well-polished boots, has just stepped into a dirty,
stinking puddle. He tried to put away from him the occurrence, and to
expand, and to enjoy himself once more. Nay, he even to