his duty according to his lights! Would that we had more like him!"
"And the tactfulness with which he greets every one!" added Manilov, smiling, and half-closing his eyes, like a cat which is being tickled behind the ears.
"Quite so," assented Chichikov. "He is a man of the most eminent civility and approachableness. And what an artist! Never should I have thought he could have worked the marvellous household samplers which he has done! Some specimens of his needlework which he showed me could not well have been surpassed by any lady in the land!"
"And the Vice-Governor, too—he is a nice man, is he not?" inquired Manilov with renewed blinkings of the eyes.
"Who? The Vice-Governor? Yes, a most worthy fellow!" replied Chichikov.
"And what of the Chief of Police? Is it not a fact that he too is in the highest degree agreeable?"
"Very agreeable indeed. And what a clever, well-read individual! With him and the Public Prosecutor and the President of the Local Council I played whist until the cocks uttered their last morning crow. He is a most excellent fellow."
"And what of his wife?" queried Madame Manilov. "Is she not a most gracious personality? "
"One of the best among my limited acquaintance," agreed Chichikov.
Nor were the President of the Local Council and the Post-master overlooked; until the company had run through the whole list of urban officials. And in every case those officials appeared to be persons of the highest possible merit.
"Do you devote your time entirely to your estate?" asked Chichikov, in his turn.
"Well, most of it," replied Manilov; "though also we pay occasional visits to the town, in order that we may mingle with a little well-bred society. One grows a trifle rusty if one lives for ever in retirement."
"Quite so," agreed Chichikov.
"Yes, quite so," capped Manilov. "At the same time, it would be a different matter if the neighbourhood were a good one—if, for example, one had a friend with whom one could discuss manners and polite deportment, or engage in some branch of science, and so stimulate one's wits. For that sort of thing gives one's intellect an airing. It, it---" At a loss for further words, he ended by remarking that his feelings were apt
