She set her mouth in a disgusted line. "You don't think much of yourself, do you?"
Brendan crossed the room. He sat down on the edge of the stone block that fitted into the join of floor and wall, and was his bed. Sitting that way, bent forward, with his shoulders against the curve of the overhead, he looked as though he might be trying to help hold up the dome. "We've been married a long time, Sally. That can't be a fresh discovery you're making."
"It isn't."
"All right."
"You don't even care what I think of you, do you?"
"I care. I can't afford to pay any attention."
"You don't care. You don't care for one living soul besides yourself, and the only voice you'll listen to is that power-chant in your head. You married me because I was good breeding stock. You married me because, if you can't lead us outside, at least your son will be the biggest and best of his generation."
"Funny," Brendan said. "Lusic thinks I've been motivated by a fear of losing my pre-eminence. I wonder if your positions can be reconciled. And do you realize you're admitting I'm exactly what I say I am?"
She spat: "I hate you. I really do. I hope they pull you down before the nursery gate opens to the outside."
"If they pull me down, that'll be a sure bet. I changed over all the controls, several years ago. I'm the only man in this dome who can possibly work them."