Мёртвые души / Dead Souls

Consequently, in spite of Manilov’s cogitations, he could think of nothing better to do than to sit letting a stream of tobacco smoke escape from his mouth.

“So,” continued Chichikov, “what I desire to know is whether you are willing to hand over to me – to resign – these actually non-living, but legally living, peasants; or whether you have any better proposal to make?”

Manilov felt too confused and confounded to do aught but continue staring at his interlocutor.

“I think that you are disturbing yourself unnecessarily,” was Chichikov’s next remark.

“I? Oh no! Not at all!” stammered Manilov. “Only – pardon me – I do not quite comprehend you. You see, never has it fallen to my lot to acquire the brilliant polish which is, so to speak, manifest in your every movement. Nor have I ever been able to attain the art of expressing myself well. Consequently, although there is a possibility that in the – er – utterances which have just fallen from your lips there may lie something else concealed, it may equally be that – er – you have been pleased so to express yourself for the sake of the beauty of the terms wherein that expression found shape?”

“Oh, no,” asserted Chichikov.

“I mean what I say and no more. My reference to such of your pleasant souls as are dead was intended to be taken literally.”

Manilov still felt at a loss – though he was conscious that he MUST do something, he MUST propound some question.

But what question? The devil alone knew! In the end he merely expelled some more tobacco smoke – this time from his nostrils as well as from his mouth.

“So,” went on Chichikov, “if no obstacle stands in the way, we might as well proceed to the completion of the purchase.”

“What? Of the purchase of the dead souls?”

“Of the �dead’ souls? Oh dear no! Let us write them down as LIVING ones, seeing that that is how they figure in the census returns.

Never do I permit myself to step outside the civil law, great though has been the harm which that rule has wrought me in my career. In my eyes an obligation is a sacred thing. In the presence of the law I am dumb.”

These last words reassured Manilov not a little: yet still the meaning of the affair remained to him a mystery. By way of answer, he fell to sucking at his pipe with such vehemence that at length the pipe began to gurgle like a bassoon.