be seen at once that he was a man of reasonable years, very different from a young chatterbox and featherhead. Ivan Antonovitch seemed to be a man of over forty; his hair was thick and black; all the outline of his face stood out prominently, and ran out to meet his nose—in short it was the sort of face that is popularly called a 'jug snout.'
'Allow me to ask, is this the section for business relating to the purchase of serfs?' said Tchitchikov.
'Yes,' said Ivan Antonovitch, turning his jug snout, but going on with his writing.
'Well, this is the business I have come about; I have bought peasants from different landowners of this district; the deed of purchase is here, I have only to complete the formalities.'
'And are the sellers here in person?'
'Some are here, and from others I have an authorisation.'
'And have you brought an application?'
'I have the application too. I should be glad … I am obliged to be in haste … so would it be possible, for instance, to complete the business to-day?'
'Oh, to-day! … It can't be done to-day,' said Ivan Antonovitch; 'inquiries must be made, we must know whether there are any impediments.'
'It may hasten matters, however, if I mention that Ivan Grigoryevitch, the president, is a great friend of mine. …'
'But Ivan Grigoryevitch is not the only one,
