"I hardly drink at all." "Really ?" asked Mayakin.
"I assure you! Sometimes I drink a wine glass or two in case of fatigue or illness.

But to drink wine for pleasure's sake is incomprehensible to me.

There are other pleasures more worthy of a man of culture." "You mean ladies, I suppose ?" asked the old man with a wink.
Smolin's cheeks and neck became red with the colour which leaped to his face.

With apologetic eyes he glanced at Lubov, and said to her father drily: "I mean the theatre, books, music." Lubov became radiant with joy at his words.
The old man looked askance at the worthy young man, smiled keenly and suddenly blurted out: "Eh, life is going onward! Formerly the dog used to relish a crust, now the pug dog finds the cream too thin; pardon me for my sour remark, but it is very much to the point.

It does not exactly refer to yourself, but in general." Lubov turned pale and looked at Smolin with fright.