Мертвые души
Chapter 8
Thereuponeverytchinovnikrespondswithasmileofdoublestrength,andthosewho(itmaybe)havenotheardasinglewordoftheDirector’sspeechsmileoutofsympathywiththerest,andeventhegendarmewhoispostedatthedistantdoor—aman,perhaps,whohasneverbeforecompassedasmile,butismoreaccustomedtodealingoutblowstothepopulace—summonsupakindofgrin,eventhoughthegrinresemblesthegrimaceofamanwhoisabouttosneezeafterinadvertentlytakinganover-largepinchofsnuff.ToallandsundryChichikovrespondedwithabow,andfeltextraordinarilyathiseaseashedidso.Torightandleftdidheinclinehisheadinthesidelong,yetunconstrained,mannerthatwashiswontandneverfailedtocharmthebeholder.Asfortheladies,theyclusteredaroundhiminashiningbevythatwasredolentofeveryspeciesofperfume—ofroses,ofspringviolets,andofmignonette;somuchsothatinstinctivelyChichikovraisedhisnosetosnufftheair.Likewisetheladies’dressesdisplayedanendlessprofusionoftasteandvariety;andthoughthemajorityoftheirwearersevincedatendencytoembonpoint,thosewearersknewhowtocalluponartfortheconcealmentofthefact.Confrontingthem,Chichikovthoughttohimself:“Whichofthesebeautiesisthewriteroftheletter?”Thenagainhesnuffedtheair.Whentheladieshad,toacertainextent,returnedtotheirseats,heresumedhisattemptstodiscern(fromglancesandexpressions)whichofthemcouldpossiblybetheunknownauthoress.
