Page:Dead Souls - A Poem by Nikolay Gogol - vol1.djvu/137

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BOOK ONE
125

make it up with a puppy of some sort or a gold seal for your watch-chain.'

'Very well!' said Tchitchikov.

'What piece will you give me?' said Nozdryov.

'Whatever for? Certainly not.'

'You might at least give me the first two moves.'

'I won't, I am a poor player myself.'

'I know what sort of a poor player you are!' said Nozdryov, moving forward a draught.

'It's a long time since I touched a draughtsman,' said Tchitchikov, and he too advanced a piece.

'We know what sort of a poor player you are,' said Nozdryov, moving a draughtsman and at the same time pushing forward another with the cuff of his sleeve.

'I haven't touched one for ever so long! … Aie, aie! What's this, put it back,' said Tchitchikov.

'Which?'

'That draught there,' said Tchitchikov, and at the same moment saw almost under his nose another which had, it seemed, reached the point of becoming a king. Where it had come from, goodness only knows. 'No,' said Tchitchikov, getting up from the table. 'It is quite impossible to play with you. You can't play three moves at once!'

'Why three? It is a mistake. One was moved by accident; I'll put it back if you like.'

'And where did that other one come from?'

'What other one?'

'Why, that other one which is just going to be a king.'