One can at least be of use on the staff..." Dolokhov smiled.

" Don't trouble.

If I want anything, I won't beg--I'll take it!" "Well, never mind; I only..." "And I only..." "Good-by.

" "Good health..." "It's a long, long way.

To my native land..." Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping time to the song.