“Curse the expression,” he squealed, at once catching her smile, “let it stand, it’s true.⁠ ⁠… No, madam, the time has come; let me tell you it’s not a time for laughter and feminine arts now. We are not in the boudoir of a mincing lady, but like two abstract creatures in a balloon who have met to speak the truth.” (He was no doubt confused and could not find the right words for his ideas, however just they were.) “It is you, madam, you who have destroyed my happy past. I took up this post simply for your sake, for the sake of your ambition.⁠ ⁠… You smile sarcastically? Don’t triumph, don’t be in a hurry. Let me tell you, madam, let me tell you that I should have been equal to this position, and not only this position but a dozen positions like it, for I have abilities; but with you, madam, with you⁠—it’s impossible, for with you here I have no abilities. There cannot be two centres, and you have created two⁠—one of mine and one in your boudoir⁠—two centres of power, madam, but I won’t allow it, I won’t allow it! In the service, as in marriage, there must be one centre, two are impossible.⁠ ⁠… How have you repaid me?” he went on.