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Stepan Arkadyevitch comprehended, looked at him, but said

nothing.

Levin was grateful to Oblonsky for noticing, with his

never-failing tact, that he dreaded conversation about the

Shtcherbatskys, and so saying nothing about them. But now Levin

was longing to find out what was tormenting him so, yet he had

not the courage to begin.

"Come, tell me how things are going with you," said Levin,

bethinking himself that it was not nice of him to think only of

himself.

Stepan Arkadyevitch's eyes sparkled merrily.

"You don't admit, I know, that one can be fond of new rolls when

one has had one's rations of bread-to your mind it's a crime; but

I don't count life as life without love," he said, taking Levin's

question his own way. "What am I to do? I'm made that way. And

really, one does so little harm to anyone, and gives oneself so

much pleasure...."

"What! is there something new, then?" queried Levin.