Мертвые души
Chapter 3
“WhoisPlatonMikhalitch?”inquiredChichikov.
“Aneighbourofours,andanexcellentfellow.”
ThenextmomentPlatonMikhalitchhimselfenteredtheroom,accompaniedbyasportingdognamedYarb.Hewasatall,handsomeman,withextremelyredhair.Asforhiscompanion,itwasofthekeen-muzzledspeciesusedforshooting.
“Haveyoudinedyet?”askedthehost.
“Yes,”repliedPlaton.
“Indeed!Whatdoyoumeanbycomingheretolaughatusall?DoIevergotoYOURplaceafterdinner?”
Thenewcomersmiled.“Well,ifitcanbringyouanycomfort,”hesaid,“letmetellyouthatIatenothingatthemeal,forIhadnoappetite.”
“ButyoushouldseewhatIhavecaught—whatsortofasturgeonfatehasbroughtmyway!Yes,andwhatcruciansandcarp!”
“Reallyittiresonetohearyou.Howcomeyoualwaystobesocheerful?”
“AndhowcomeYOUalwaystobesogloomy?”retortedthehost.
“How,youask?SimplybecauseIamso.”
“Thetruthisyoudon’teatenough.Trytheplanofmakingagooddinner.Wearinessofeverythingisamoderninvention.Onceuponatimeoneneverheardofit.”
“Well,boastaway,buthaveyouyourselfneverbeentiredofthings?”
“Neverinmylife.IdonotsomuchasknowwhetherIshouldfindtimetobetired.Inthemorning,whenoneawakes,thecookiswaiting,andthedinnerhastobeordered.Thenonedrinksone’smorningtea,andthenthebailiffarrivesforHISorders,andthenthereisfishingtobedone,andthenone’sdinnerhastobeeaten.
