It's not the first time she's taken the wind out of Pyotr's sails with a sudden capitulation, but it is the first time he's been generally miserable enough that his fit of pique switches to that instead.

"I don't understand you!" he suddenly snaps, slapping his open palm down on his desk. "You call yourself my friend, you say you want me to live, and yet every change that's afforded you you refuse to stop me or persuade me otherwise! Why? Have you already given up on me? Or does my friendship simply mean that little to you after all?"