"What you think, then, is that I never can help you in anything?" "What I think?" said he, throwing down his pen. "I think that without you I could not live. In all things, in all, not only are you a help to me, but it is by you that everything is done. You are literally to me 'well-fallen,'" he went on smiling. "It is in you alone that I live; it seems to me nothing is good but because you are there, because you must...." "Yes, I know it, I am a nice little child who has to be petted and kept quiet," said I, in such a tone that he looked at me in amazement. "But I do not want this quieting; I have had enough of it!" "Come, let me tell you about this morning's trouble," he said hastily, as if he was afraid to give me time to say more: "let us see what you think of it!" "I do not wish to hear it now," I replied. I really did want to hear it, but it was more agreeable to me, at this moment, to disturb his tranquillity. "I do not wish to play with the things of life; I wish to live," I added; "like you." His face, which always so clearly and so readily reflected every impression, wore a look of suffering and intense attention. "I wish to live with you in perfect equality...." But I could not finish, such profound pain was on his face. He was silent an instant. "And in what do you not live with me on a footing of equality?" he said: "it is I, not you, that is concerned in this affair of the ispravnik and some drunken peasants." "Yes, but it is not only this case," said I. "For the love of God, do understand me, my darling," he continued; "I know how painful a thing care is for us all; I have lived, and I know it. I love you, therefore I would spare you every care. My life is centred in my love for you; so do not prevent my living!" "You are always right," said I, without looking at him. I could not bear to see him once more serene and tranquil, while I was so full of anger and a feeling somewhat resembling repentance. "Katia! What is the matter with you?" said he. "The question is not in the least which of us two is in the right, what we were talking about is something entirely different! What have you against me? Do not tell me at once; reflect, and then tell me all that is in your thoughts. You are displeased with me, you have, no doubt, a reason, but explain to me in what I am to blame." But how could I tell him all that I had in the bottom of my heart? The thought that he had seen through me at once, that again I found myself as a child before him, that I could do nothing that he did not comprehend and foresee, excited me more than ever. "I have nothing against you," said I, "but I am tired, and I do not like ennui. You say that this must be so, and, of course, once more you are right!" As I spoke, I looked in his face. My object was attained; his serenity had disappeared; alarm and pain were stamped upon his face.