Say at once that you refuse to play with me." And Nozdrev approached a step nearer.
"Very well; I DO say that," replied Chichikov, and at the same moment raised his hands towards his face, for the dispute was growing heated.
Nor was the act of caution altogether unwarranted, for Nozdrev also raised his fist, and it may be that one of her hero's plump, pleasant-looking cheeks would have sustained an indelible insult had not he (Chichikov) parried the blow and, seizing Nozdrev by his whirling arms, held them fast.
"Porphyri! Pavlushka!" shouted Nozdrev as madly he strove to free himself.
On hearing the words, Chichikov, both because he wished to avoid rendering the servants witnesses of the unedifying scene and because he felt that it would be of no avail to hold Nozdrev any longer, let go of the latter's arms; but at the same moment Porphyri and Pavlushka entered the room--a pair of stout rascals with whom it would be unwise to meddle.
"Do you, or do you not, intend to finish the game ?" said Nozdrev.

"Give me a direct answer." "No; it will not be possible to finish the game," replied Chichikov, glancing out of the window.

He could see his britchka standing ready for him, and Selifan evidently awaiting orders to draw up to the entrance steps.

But from the room there was no escape, since in the doorway was posted the couple of well-built serving-men.
"Then it is as I say?
You refuse to finish the game ?" repeated Nozdrev, his face as red as fire.
"I would have finished it had you played like a man of honour.

But, as it is, I cannot." "You cannot, eh, you villain?
You find that you cannot as soon as you find that you are not winning?
Thrash him, you fellows!" And as he spoke Nozdrev grasped the cherrywood shank of his pipe.