"Have you fallen in love with that young Jew?"
"Gourdain? No."
"Have you a crazy notion that your looks'll get you a better husband? A big fortune or a title?"
"I haven't thought about a husband. Haven't I told you I wish to be free?"
"But that doesn't mean anything."
"It might," said she absently.
"How?"
"I don't know. If one is always free—one is ready for—whatever comes. Anyhow, I must be free—no matter what it costs."
"I see you're bent on dropping back into the dirt I picked you out of."
"Even that," she said. "I must be free."