At the time Nozdrev was engaged on some very important business--so much so that he had not left his room for four days, and was receiving his meals through the window, and no visitors at all.

The business referred to consisted of the marking of several dozen selected cards in such a way as to permit of his relying upon them as upon his bosom friend.

Naturally he did not like having his retirement invaded, and at first consigned the commissionaire to the devil; but as soon as he learnt from the note that, since a novice at cards was to be the guest of the Chief of Police that evening, a call at the latter's house might prove not wholly unprofitable he relented, unlocked the door of his room, threw on the first garments that came to hand, and set forth.
To every question put to him by the tchinovniks he answered firmly and with assurance.

Chichikov, he averred, had indeed purchased dead souls, and to the tune of several thousand roubles.

In fact, he (Nozdrev) had himself sold him some, and still saw no reason why he should not have done so.