ad a little, for it had struck him that surely the
would-be buyer must have some advantage in view.

"The devil!" thought Chichikov to himself. "Here is he selling the goods
before I have even had time to utter a word!"

"And what about the price?" he added aloud. "Of course, the articles are
not of a kind very easy to appraise."

"I should be sorry to ask too much," said Sobakevitch. "How would a
hundred roubles per head suit you?"

"What, a hundred roubles per head?" Chichikov stared open-mouthed at
his host--doubting whether he had heard aright, or whether his host's
slow-moving tongue might not have inadvertently substituted one word for
another.

"Yes. Is that too much for you?" said Sobakevitch. Then he added: "What
is your own price?"

"My own price? I think that we cannot properly have understood one
another--that you must have forgotten of what the goods consist. With
my hand on my heart do I submit that eight grivni per soul would be a
handsome, a VERY handsome, offer."

"What? Eight grivni?"

"In my opinion, a higher offer would be impossible."

"But I am not a seller of boots."

"No; yet you, for your part, will agree that these souls are not live
human beings?"

"I suppose you hope to find fools ready to sell you souls on the census
list for a couple of groats apiece?"

"Pardon me, but why do you use the term 'on the census list'? The souls
themselves have long since passed away, and have left behind them only
their names. Not to trouble you with any further discussion of the
subject, I can offer you a rouble and a half per head, but no more."

"You should be ashamed even to mention such a sum! Since you deal in
articles of this kind, quote me a genuine price."

"I cannot, Michael Semenovitch. Believe me, I cannot. What a man
cannot do, that he cannot do." The speaker ended by advancing another
half-rouble per head.

"But why hang back with your money?" said Sobakevitch. "Of a truth I am
not asking much of you. Any other rascal than myself would have cheated
you by selling you old rubbish instead of good, genuine souls, whereas
I should be ready to give you of my best, even were you buying only
nut-kernels. For instance, look at wheelwright Michiev. Never was there
such a one to build spring carts! And his handiwork was not like your
Moscow handiwork--good only for an hour. No, he did it all himself, even
down to the varnishing."

Chichikov opened his mouth to remark that, nevertheless,