Dead Souls

Chichikov's purchase of nearly four hundred souls has already become the talk of the town. The rumour that he is a millionaire spreads, and as it spreads, so does his social standing. The President of the Council can recite the whole of Zhukovski's Ludmilla by heart; the Postmaster diligently studies Young's Night Thoughts; the others read what they can. All of them like Chichikov rather more now. The ladies of N. are introduced at length. They are distinguished for their presentability, their exact adherence to etiquette, and their refined diction. A lady of N. does not say she blew her nose; she says she relieved it through the expedient of wiping it with her handkerchief. She does not say a plate smells badly; she says it is not behaving very well. They are also censorious of vice — except when the vice occurs within their own circle, in which case not a hint of it is allowed to transpire. From the moment the word "millionaire" attaches to Chichikov, crowds of ladies appear at the Bazaar and dress materials at high prices that have languished on shelves suddenly find buyers. At the Governor's ball, Chichikov is surrounded by a perfumed press of ladies who ply him with subtle riddles. He is well-launched into the evening when the Governor's wife appears with her daughter by the hand — the golden-haired girl from the road collision after Nozdrev's. He stops mid-sentence. He can formulate nothing that would be acceptable as a response in a fashionable novel. He simply stares. For the rest of the evening he ignores every other woman in the room. He presses through the crowd, elbowing the Commissioner of Taxes aside, shouldering past the Postmaster, until he reaches the spot where the girl is sitting with her mother. He falters. All his ease deserts him. Then Nozdrev arrives — unshaven, in dress-coat and white tie, having clearly had a good deal to drink — and immediately addresses Chichikov at the top of his voice about the dead souls. The orchestra keeps playing. The dancers keep dancing. But something has shifted. The word "dead souls" hangs in the air. At the chapter's end, Korobotchka's britchka creaks into town. She has been worrying for days that she sold her dead souls too cheaply.