Hlobuev. 'Hey, Kiryushka! bring us another bottle of champagne.'
'No, no, I can't drink any more,' said Platonov.
'Nor can I,' said Tchitchikov, and both refused resolutely.
'Well, anyway you must give me your word that you will come and see me in town: on the 8th of June I am giving a little dinner to our local magnates.'
'Upon my word!' cried Platonov. 'In such a position, completely ruined, and now a dinner-party.'
'There's no help for it, it must be: it's a debt,' said Hlobuev. 'They have entertained me too.'
'What is to be done with him?' thought Platonov. He was not aware that in Russia, in Moscow and many other towns, there are numbers of these clever people whose life is an enigma. A man has lost everything it seems, he is in debt all round, he has no means whatever and the dinner he gives, one would think, must be the last; and those who dine with him imagine that next day their host will be hauled off to prison. Ten years pass and he is still extant; he is more deeply in debt than ever, and again he gives a dinner and every one believes it is his last and every one is convinced that their host will be hauled off to prison next day.
Hlobuev was almost one of these wonderful people. It is only in Russia that one can exist in that way. Though he had nothing he enter-
