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"Yes, it's wonderfully funny the way he talks. She knows where

her master's going!" he added, patting Laska, who hung about

Levin, whining and licking his hands, his boots, and his gun.

The trap was already at the steps when they went out.

"I told them to bring the trap round; or would you rather walk?"

"No, we'd better drive," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting into

the trap. He sat down, tucked the tiger-skin rug round him, and

lighted a cigar. "How is it you don't smoke? A cigar is a sort of

thing, not exactly a pleasure, but the crown and outward sign of

pleasure. Come, this is life! How splendid it is! This is how I

should like to live!"

"Why, who prevents you?" said Levin, smiling.

"No, you're a lucky man! You've got everything you like. You like

horses-and you have them; dogs-you have them; shooting-you have

it; farming-you have it."

"Perhaps because I rejoice in what I have, and don't fret for

what I haven't," said Levin, thinking of Kitty.