at is to say, in the brown jacket
above-mentioned) and a habit of everywhere bearing with him his own
peculiar atmosphere, his own peculiar smell--a smell which filled
any lodging with such subtlety that he needed but to make up his bed
anywhere, even in a room hitherto untenanted, and to drag thither his
greatcoat and other impedimenta, for that room at once to assume an air
of having been lived in during the past ten years. Nevertheless, though
a fastidious, and even an irritable, man, Chichikov would merely frown
when his nose caught this smell amid the freshness of the morning, and
exclaim with a toss of his head: "The devil only knows what is up with
you! Surely you sweat a good deal, do you not? The best thing you can do
is to go and take a bath." To this Petrushka would make no reply, but,
approaching, brush in hand, the spot where his master's coat would be
pendent, or starting to arrange one and another article in order, would
strive to seem wholly immersed in his work. Yet of what was he thinking
as he remained thus silent? Perhaps he was saying to himself: "My master
is a good fellow, but for him to keep on saying the same thing forty
times over is a little wearisome." Only God knows and sees all things;
wherefore for a mere human being to know what is in the mind of a
servant while his master is scolding him is wholly impossible. However,
no more need be said about Petrushka. On the other hand, Coachman
Selifan--

But here let me remark that I do not like engaging the reader's
attention in connection with persons of a lower class than himself; for
experience has taught me that we do not willingly familiarise ourselves
with the lower orders--that it is the custom of the average Russian to
yearn exclusively for information concerning persons on the higher rungs
of the social ladder. In fact, even a bowing acquaintance with a prince
or a lord counts, in his eyes, for more than do the most intimate of
relations with ordinary folk. For the same reason the author feels
apprehensive on his hero's account, seeing that he has made that hero
a mere Collegiate Councillor--a mere person with whom Aulic Councillors
might consort, but upon whom persons of the grade of full General
[8] would probably bestow one of those glances proper to a man who is
cringing at their august feet. Worse still, such persons of the grade of
General are likely to treat Chichikov with studied negligence--and to an
author studied negligence spe