“But, if you please,” Chichikov got out at last, amazed by such a copious inundation of speeches, to which, it seemed, there was never an end, “why do you enumerate all their good points? For there’s no good in them now whatsoever—they’re all dead folk. All a dead body is good for is to prop up a fence with, says the proverb.” “Why, of course, they’re dead,” said Sobakevich, as though he had come to his senses and remembered that they were dead in reality, but then added: “However, it may also be said, what good are the people that are now numbered among the living? What sort of people are
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