Once, as he sat tapping his silver snuff-box after luncheon, Chichikov remarked:
“One thing you lack, and only one, Andrei Ivanovitch.”
“What is that?” asked his host.
“A female friend or two,” replied Chichikov.
Tientietnikov made no rejoinder, and the conversation came temporarily to an end.
But Chichikov was not to be discouraged; wherefore, while waiting for supper and talking on different subjects, he seized an opportunity to interject:
“Do you know, it would do you no harm to marry.”
As before, Tientietnikov did not reply, and the renewed mention of the subject seemed to have annoyed him.
For the third time—it was after supper—Chichikov returned to the charge by remarking:
“To-day, as I was walking round your property, I could not help thinking that marriage would do you a great deal of good. Otherwise you will develop into a hypochondriac.”