Yet in his words there seemed to lurk a certain lack of conviction.

Somehow he seemed secretly to be saying to himself, "My good sir, you are talking the most absolute rubbish, and nothing but rubbish." Nor did he even throw a glance at Sobakevitch and Manilov.

It was as though he were uncertain what he might not encounter in their expression.

Yet he need not have been afraid.

Never once did Sobakevitch's face move a muscle, and, as for Manilov, he was too much under the spell of Chichikov's eloquence to do aught beyond nod his approval at intervals, and strike the kind of attitude which is assumed by lovers of music when a lady singer has, in rivalry of an accompanying violin, produced a note whereof the shrillness would exceed even the capacity of a bird's throstle.
"But why not tell Ivan Grigorievitch precisely what you have bought ?" inquired Sobakevitch of Chichikov.