To all and sundry Chichikov responded with a bow, and felt extraordinarily at his ease as he did so.

To right and left did he incline his head in the sidelong, yet unconstrained, manner that was his wont and never failed to charm the beholder.

As for the ladies, they clustered around him in a shining bevy that was redolent of every species of perfume--of roses, of spring violets, and of mignonette; so much so that instinctively Chichikov raised his nose to snuff the air.
Likewise the ladies' dresses displayed an endless profusion of taste and variety; and though the majority of their wearers evinced a tendency to embonpoint, those wearers knew how to call upon art for the concealment of the fact.

Confronting them, Chichikov thought to himself: "Which of these beauties is the writer of the letter ?" Then again he snuffed the air.

When the ladies had, to a certain extent, returned to their seats, he resumed his attempts to discern (from glances and expressions) which of them could possibly be the unknown authoress.