Мертві душі

           SodeeplydidChichikovbecomeplungedinconversationwithhisfairpursuers—orrather,sodeeplydidthosefairpursuersenmeshhiminthetoilsofsmalltalk(whichtheyaccomplishedthroughtheexpedientofaskinghimendlesssubtleriddleswhichbroughtthesweattohisbrowinhisattemptstoguessthem)—thatheforgottheclaimsofcourtesywhichrequiredhimfirstofalltogreethishostess.Infact,herememberedthoseclaimsonlyonhearingtheGovernor’swifeherselfaddressinghim.Shehadbeenstandingbeforehimforseveralminutes,andnowgreetedhimwithsuaveexpressementandthewords,“SoHEREyouare,PaulIvanovitch!”ButwhatshesaidnextIamnotinapositiontoreport,forshespokeintheultra-refinedtoneandveinwhereinladiesandgentlemencustomarilyexpressthemselvesinhigh-classnovelswhichhavebeenwrittenbyexpertsmorequalifiedthanIamtodescribesalons,andabletoboastofsomeacquaintancewithgoodsociety.Ineffect,whattheGovernor’swifesaidwasthatshehoped—shegreatlyhoped—thatMonsieurChichikov’sheartstillcontainedacorner—eventhesmallestpossiblecorner—forthosewhomhehadsocruellyforgotten.UponthatChichikovturnedtoher,andwasonthepointofreturningareplyatleastnoworsethanthatwhichwouldhavebeenreturned,undersimilarcircumstances,bytheheroofafashionablenovelette,whenhestoppedshort,asthoughthunderstruck.

           BeforehimtherewasstandingnotonlyMadame,butalsoayounggirlwhomshewasholdingbythehand.