Tchichikoff lifted up his eyes again and beheld once more the Grecian hero, Kanaris, with his enormous ties and interminable moustachios, as well as the heroine, Bobelina, and the blackbird in its cage.
For more than five minutes all three remained silent; the only sign of animation proceeded from the blackbird, who was pecking the wood of his cage with his beak, and gathering the bread crumbs on the bottom of it. Tchichikoff glanced once more around the room, and all, whatever his eyes beheld—all was solid, clumsy, and tasteless in the highest degree, and had a particular and strange resemblance to the host himself; in one of the corners of the room, there stood a large paunch-bellied nutwood bureau, upon four shapeless legs, a perfect bear. The table, the arm-chairs, the common chairs, all were of the most heavy and uncomfortable description, in a word, every article which constituted the furniture of this room seemed to speak; and I am also Sobakevitch!
"We have been thinking of you at the house of the President of the Courts of Justice, Ivan Gregorievitch," at last said Tchichikoff, perceiving that no one seemed inclined to break the silence and begin to speak, "we thought of you on Thursday last. I spent a very pleasant evening there."
"True, I was not at the President's on that evening," answered Sobakevitch.
"He is an excellent and worthy man!" exclaimed Tchichikoff.
"Whom do you mean?" said Sobakevitch, looking at the corner of his store.
"The President of the Courts of Justice, to be sure."
"Well, he might have seemed so to you; he is a freemason, and such a fool, that the world cannot produce his equal."
Tchichikoff was rather startled when he heard this cutting qualification of a person he knew, but recovering immediately from his surprise, he continued: "To be sure, every man has his foibles, but I cannot help expressing my admiration for the Governor-General."
"The Lord-Lieutenant, a man worthy of admiration?"