In passing, it may be remarked that his fellow tchinovniks were a peculiarly plain, unsightly lot, some of them having faces like badly baked bread, swollen cheeks, receding chins, and cracked and blistered upper lips.

Indeed, not a man of them was handsome.

Also, their tone of voice always contained a note of sullenness, as though they had a mind to knock some one on the head; and by their frequent sacrifices to Bacchus they showed that even yet there remains in the Slavonic nature a certain element of paganism.

Nay, the Director's room itself they would invade while still licking their lips, and since their breath was not over-aromatic, the atmosphere of the room grew not over-pleasant.

Naturally, among such an official staff a man like Chichikov could not fail to attract attention and remark, since in everything--in cheerfulness of demeanour, in suavity of voice, and in complete neglect of the use of strong potions--he was the absolute antithesis of his companions.