At length he said: "I cannot find it now, but I used to possess a splendid bottle of liquor.

Probably the servants have drunk it all, for they are such thieves.

Oh no: perhaps this is it!" Looking up, Chichikov saw that Plushkin had extracted a decanter coated with dust.
"My late wife made the stuff," went on the old man, "but that rascal of a housekeeper went and threw away a lot of it, and never even replaced the stopper.

Consequently bugs and other nasty creatures got into the decanter, but I cleaned it out, and now beg to offer you a glassful." The idea of a drink from such a receptacle was too much for Chichikov, so he excused himself on the ground that he had just had luncheon.
"You have just had luncheon ?" re-echoed Plushkin.

"Now, THAT shows how invariably one can tell a man of good society, wheresoever one may be.
A man of that kind never eats anything--he always says that he has had enough.