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noticing that he had entered the britchka, that it had passed through
the gates, and that he was now in the open country. Permissibly we may
suppose that his wife succeeded in gleaning from him few details of
the fair.
"What a fool!" said Nozdrev as, standing by the window, he watched the
departing vehicle. "Yet his off-horse is not such a bad one. For a
long time past I have been wanting to get hold of it. A man like that
is simply impossible. Yes, he is a Thetuk, a regular Thetuk."
With that they repaired to the parlour, where, on Porphyri bringing
candles, Chichikov perceived that his host had produced a pack of
cards.
"I tell you what," said Nozdrev, pressing the sides of the pack
together, and then slightly bending them, so that the pack cracked and
a card flew out. "How would it be if, to pass the time, I were to make
a bank of three hundred?"
Chichikov pretended not to have heard him, but remarked with an air of
having just recollected a forgotten point:
"By the way, I had omitted to say that I have a request to make of
you."
"What request?"
"First give me your word that you will grant it."
"What is the request, I say?"
"Then you give me your word, do you?"
"Certainly."
"Your word of honour?"
"My word of honour."
"This, then, is my request. I presume that you have a large number of
dead serfs whose names have not yet been removed from the revision
list?"
"I have. But why do you ask?"
"Because I want you to make them over to me."
"Of what use would they be to you?"
"Never mind. I have a purpose in wanting them."
"What purpose?"
"A purpose which is strictly my own affair. In short, I need them."
"You seem to have hatched a very fine scheme. Out with it, now! What
is in the wind?"
"How could I have hatched such a scheme as you say? One could not very
well hatch a scheme out of such a trifle as this."
"Then for what purpose do you want the serfs?"
"Oh, the curiosity of the man! He wants to poke his fingers into and
smell over every detail!"
"Why do you decline to say what is in your mind? At all events, until
you DO say I shall not move in the matter."
"But how would it benefit you to know what my plans are? A whim has
seized me. That is all. Nor are you playing fair. You have given me
your word of honour, yet now you are trying to back out of it."
"No matter what you desire me to do, I decline to do it until you have
told me your purpose."
"What am I to say to the fellow?" thought Chichikov. He reflected for
a moment, and then explained that he wanted the dead souls in order to
acquire a better standing in society, since at present he possessed
little landed property, and only a handful of serfs.
"You are lying," said Nozdrev without even letting him finish. "Yes,
you are lying my good friend."
Chichikov himself perceived that his device had been a clumsy one, and
his pretext weak. "I must tell him straight out," he said to himself as
he pulled his wits together.
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