Tarantiev hastened to cram the note into his pocket.

"Likewise, do you feel like hiring a conveyance and going to the Ekaterinhov today?" he inquired. "If so, you might take me with you."

Oblomov shook his head.

"I have met with two misfortunes," he remarked. " In the first place, I am to be turned out of this flat."

"Because you haven't paid your rent, I suppose? "

"No, that is not the reason. I always pay in advance. Tell me what had better be done."

"Who made me your adviser? Do you think I give advice for nothing? Ask him, rather" and Tarantiev pointed to Alexiev "or else that kinsman of his."

"No, no. Tell me what I ought to do."

"I should advise you to move to another flat."

"I could have said that myself."

"To the flat of a friend of mine in the Veaborg Quarter," continued Tarantiev.

"What? To a flat in the Veaborg Quarter? In winter the whole district is overrun with wolves!"^[1]