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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Perhaps so, but I am not going to let any one but myself have a finger in this," thought Chichikov to himself; after which he explained to Plushkin that a friend of the kind mentioned would be impossible to discover, since the legal expenses of the enterprise would lead to the said friend having to cut the very tail from his coat before he would get clear of the lawyers.
Anything that he drove his awl into became a pair of boots and boots for which you would be thankful, although he WAS a bit foul of the mouth. And Eremi Sorokoplechin, too! He was the best of the lot, and used to work at his trade in Moscow, where he paid a tax of five hundred roubles. Well, THERE'S an assortment of serfs for you! a very different assortment from what Plushkin would sell you!"
"Nevertheless," added Chichikov, "seeing that you are so hard pressed for money, and that I am so interested in the matter, I feel moved to advance you well, to advance you such a trifle as would scarcely be worth mentioning." "But how much is it?" asked Plushkin eagerly, and with his hands trembling like quicksilver. "Twenty-five kopecks per soul." "What? In ready money?" "Yes in money down."
"Quite so a deed of purchase," echoed Plushkin, once more relapsing into thought and the chewing motion of the lips. "But a deed of such a kind will entail certain expenses, and lawyers are so devoid of conscience! In fact, so extortionate is their avarice that they will charge one half a rouble, and then a sack of flour, and then a whole waggon-load of meal.
Having broken the seal, he exclaimed: "Why, it is from Plushkin! To think that HE is still alive! What a strange world it is! He used to be such a nice fellow, and now " "And now he is a cur," concluded Sobakevitch, "as well as a miser who starves his serfs to death." "Allow me a moment," said the President. Then he read the letter through.
Somehow he seemed to have taken offence at Chichikov's almost joyous exclamation; wherefore the guest hastened to heave a profound sigh, and to observe that he sympathised to the full with his host's misfortunes. "But sympathy does not put anything into one's pocket," retorted Plushkin. "For instance, I have a kinsman who is constantly plaguing me.
The idea of a drink from such a receptacle was too much for Chichikov, so he excused himself on the ground that he had just had luncheon. "You have just had luncheon?" re-echoed Plushkin. "Now, THAT shows how invariably one can tell a man of good society, wheresoever one may be. A man of that kind never eats anything he always says that he has had enough.
With toothless gums Plushkin murmured something in reply, but nothing is known as to its precise terms beyond that it included a statement that the devil was at liberty to fly away with Chichikov's sentiments. However, the laws of Russian hospitality do not permit even of a miser infringing their rules; wherefore Plushkin added to the foregoing a more civil invitation to be seated.
Oh no: perhaps this is it!" Looking up, Chichikov saw that Plushkin had extracted a decanter coated with dust. "My late wife made the stuff," went on the old man, "but that rascal of a housekeeper went and threw away a lot of it, and never even replaced the stopper. Consequently bugs and other nasty creatures got into the decanter, but I cleaned it out, and now beg to offer you a glassful."
For several minutes Plushkin stood mute, while Chichikov remained so dazed with the appearance of the host and everything else in the room, that he too, could not begin a conversation, but stood wondering how best to find words in which to explain the object of his visit.
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