"Marion!"
"I would have you seek another wife. If not instantly, I would have you instantly resolve to do so."
"It would not hurt you to feel that I loved another?"
"I think not. I have tried myself, and now I think that it would not hurt me. There was a time in which I owned to myself that it would be very bitter, and then I told myself, that I hoped,—that I hoped that you would wait. But now, I have acknowledged to myself the vanity and selfishness of such a wish. If I really love you am I not bound to want what may be best for you?"
"You think that possible?" he said, standing over her, and looking down upon her. "Judging from your own heart do you think that you could do that if outward circumstances made it convenient?"
"No, no, no."
"Why should you suppose me to be harder-hearted than yourself, more callous, more like a beast of the fields?"
"More like a man is what I would have you."
"I have listened to you, Marion, and now you may listen to me. Your distinctions as to men and women are all vain. There are those, men and women both, who can love and do love, and there are those who neither do nor can. Whether it be for good or evil,—we can, you and I, and we do. It would be impossible to think of giving yourself to another?"
"That is certainly true."