“Good day to _you_,” replied the gentleman. “’Tis a long time since I last saw you, but you know what this devilish Civil Service means. Look at that bagful of reports which I have brought with me! And not only that, but I have had to leave word at the office that a messenger will find me here should I be wanted. Never do I get a single moment to myself.” “So you were on the way to your office? How come you to be going so late? Your usual hour used to be nine.” “Yes, it _used_ to be nine, but now I go at twelve.” “Ah, I see: you have recently been made the head of a department. Since when?” “Since Easter,” replied Sudbinski, with a meaning nod. “But what a lot of work! It is terrible! From eight to twelve in the morning I am slaving at home; from twelve to five at the Chancellory; and all the evening at home again. I have quite lost touch with my acquaintances.” “Come and lunch with me to-day, and we will drink to your promotion,” said Oblomov. “No, to-day I am lunching with the Vice-Director, as well as have a report to prepare by Thursday. You see, one _cannot_ rely upon provincial advices, but must verify every return personally. Are you going to the Ekaterinhov to-day?” “No, for I am not very well,” replied Oblomov, knitting his brows. “Moreover, like yourself, I have some work to do.” “I am very sorry,” said Sudbinski; “for it is a fine day, and the only day on which I myself can hope for a little rest.” “And what news have you?” asked Oblomov. “Oh, a good deal-of a sort. We are required no longer to write at the end of our official letters ‘Your humble servant,’ but merely ‘Accept the assurance of my profound respect.’ Also we have been told that we are to cease to make out formal documents in duplicate. Likewise, our office has just been allotted three new tables and a couple of confidential clerks. Lastly, the Commission has now concluded its sittings. _There’s_ a budget of news for you!” “And what of our old comrades?” “Nothing at present, except that Svinkin has lost his case.” “And to think that you work from eight to twelve, and from twelve to five, and again in the evening! Dear, dear!” “Well, what should I do if I were _not_ in the Service?” asked Sudbinski. “You would just read and write on your own account.” “But it is not given to every one to be a _littérateur_. For example, you yourself write nothing.” “No, for I have some property on my hands,” said Oblomov with a sigh. “But I am working out a new system for it; I am going to introduce reforms of various kinds. The affair worries me terribly.” “Well, for my part, I _must_ work, in order to make a little money. Besides, I am to be married this coming autumn.” “Indeed! And to whom?” “To Mademoiselle Murashina. Do you remember their country villa, next to mine? I think you came to tea with me and met her there?” “No, I have no recollection of it. Is she pretty?” “Yes, charming. Suppose, one day, we go to lunch with her?”