FELIX
And so you were, perhaps, at that time.—And she thought of doing it, I am sure. She wanted to put an end to the lies and the qualms, just as hundreds of thousands of girls have done before. But millions fail to do it, and they are the most sensible ones. And I am sure she also thought of telling the truth to him she took to husband. But, of course, the way through life is easier when you don't have to carry a burden of reproach or, what is worse, of forgiveness.
JULIAN
And if she had spoken....
FELIX
Oh, I understand why she didn't. It had been of no use to anybody. And so she kept silent: silent when she got back from the wedding—silent when her child was born—silent when, ten years later, the lover came to her husband's house again—silent to the very last.... Fates of that kind are to be found everywhere, and it isn't even necessary to be—depraved, in order to suffer them or invoke them.
JULIAN
And there are mighty few whom it behooves to judge—or to condemn.
FELIX
I don't presume to do so. And it doesn't even occur to me that I am now to behold deceivers and deceived where, a few hours ago, I could only see people who were dear to me and whose relationships to each other were perfectly pure. And it is absolutely impossible for me to feel myself another man than I have deemed myself until to-day. There is no power in all this truth.... A vivid dream would be more compelling than this story out of bygone days, which you have just told me. Nothing has changed—nothing whatever. The thought of my mother is as sacred to me as ever. And the man in whose house I was born and raised, who surrounded my childhood and youth with care tenderness, and whom my mother—loved.... He means just as much to me now as he ever meant—and perhaps a little more.