fish, I say the crayfish?' And for a long time afterwards he still heard shouts 'Crayfish, crayfish.'
'Well, the master of the house is busy,' said Tchitchikov, sitting down in an easy-chair, and looking round at the walls and corners.
'Here I am again,' said the fat gentleman, coming in and bringing two lads in light summer coats, as slender as willow wands and almost a full yard taller than Pyotr Petrovitch.
'My sons, high-school boys, they are home for the holidays. Nikolasha, you stay with the visitor, and you, Alexasha, follow me.' And Pyotr Petrovitch Pyetuh disappeared again.
Tchitchikov was entertained by Nikolasha. The lad was talkative. He told him that they were not very well taught at their high-school, that the teachers favoured those whose mammas sent the richest presents, that there was a regiment of the Inkermanlandsky Hussars stationed in the town; that Captain Vyetvitsky had a better horse than the colonel himself, though Lieutenant Vzyomtsev rode far better than he did.
'And tell me in what condition is your father's estate?' Tchitchikov asked.
'It's mortgaged,' the father himself replied, reappearing again in the drawing-room, 'It's mortgaged.'
Tchitchikov felt inclined to make that movement of the lips which a man makes when a thing is no good, and is ending in nothing.
