Douglas. And if I spoke against him?
Marion. [Leaning on back of chair.] I know I couldn't help it, after what you have told me; I should have to feel you might be influenced by jealousy.
Douglas. To unjustly accuse a man?
Marion. Oh, Douglas, no, of course you would believe what you said, but I wouldn't trust your judgment. Don't I know every one is down on him. Even you men; are all the men in New York so proud of their past lives—not to mention the present of several I know?—Well, if men turn a cold shoulder, then we women must give him our hands.
Douglas. You girls don't understand.
Marion. Oh, girls understand a good deal nowadays. Society and some of the newspapers attend to that. He doesn't pretend to be a saint to me—I find him perfectly frank—and I am afraid he has been rather fast! But I don't believe he is capable of an outright dishonourable action, and nothing would make me believe it!
Douglas. No proof?
Marion. Only the proof of my own eyes. When I see him do something contemptible, then I'll believe half the stories I hear of him! [Moving a little up centre.
Douglas. I see you do love him.
Marion. I do, though you are the only person I have confessed it to,—not even to him—and forgive me, [Down a little.] but I never liked you less than I do now when you have spoken against him. [Up to arch.