JULIA. Well, what of that? I do not please to give you up; and I will not. You have not become a drunkard or a criminal.
CHARTERIS. You don't see the point yet, Julia. You seem to forget that in reserving your freedom to leave me in case I should turn out badly, you also reserved my freedom to leave you in case you should turn out badly.
JULIA. Very ingenious. And pray, have I become a drunkard, or a criminal, or an imbecile?
CHARTERIS (rising). You have become what is infinitely worse than all three together—a jealous termagant.
JULIA (shaking her head bitterly). Yes, abuse me—call me names.
CHARTERIS. I now assert the right I reserved—the right of breaking with you when I please. Advanced views, Julia, involve advanced duties: you cannot be an advanced woman when you want to bring a man to your feet, and a conventional woman when you want to hold him there against his will. Advanced people form charming friendships: conventional people marry. Marriage suits a good deal of people; and its first duty is fidelity. Friendship suits some people; and its first duty is unhesitating, uncomplaining acceptance of a notice of a change of feeling from either side. You chose friendship instead of marriage. Now do your duty, and accept your notice.
JULIA. Never! We are engaged in the eye of—the eye of—
CHARTERIS (sitting down quickly beside her). Yes, Julia. Can't you get it out? In the eye of something that advanced women don't believe in, en?
JULIA (throwing herself at his feet). O Leonard, don't be cruel. I am too miserable to argue—to think. I only know I love you. You reproach me with not wanting to marry you. I would have married you at any time after I came to love you, if you had asked me. I will marry you now if you will.
CHARTERIS. I won't, my dear. That's flat. We're intellectually incompatible.