Мертвые души
Chapter 1
Onthedaythathewasconductedintoasplendid,shininghall—ahallfittedwithinlaidfloorsandlacquereddesksasfineasthoughthiswereactuallytheplacewherethegreatonesoftheEmpiremetfordiscussionofthefortunesoftheState;onthedaythathesawlegionsofhandsomegentlemenofthequill-drivingprofessionmakingloudscratchingswithpens,andcockingtheirheadstooneside;lastlyonthedaythathesawhimselfalsoallottedadesk,andrequestedtocopyadocumentwhichappearedpurposelytobeoneofthepettiestpossibleorder(asamatteroffactitrelatedtoasumofthreeroubles,andhadtakenhalfayeartoproduce)—well,atthatmomentacurious,anunwontedsensationseizedupontheinexperiencedyouth,forthegentlemenaroundhimappearedsoexactlylikealotofcollegestudents.And,thefurthertocompletetheresemblance,someofthemwereengagedinreadingtrashytranslatednovels,whichtheykepthurriedlythrustingbetweenthesheetsoftheirapportionedworkwhenevertheDirectorappeared,asthoughtoconveytheimpressionthatitwastothatworkalonethattheywereapplyingthemselves.Inshort,thesceneseemedtoTientietnikovstrange,andhisformerpursuitsmoreimportantthanhispresent,andhispreparationfortheServicepreferabletotheServiceitself.Yes,suddenlyhefeltalongingforhisoldschool;andassuddenly,andwithallthevividnessoflife,thereappearedbeforehisvisionthefigureofAlexanderPetrovitch.
