Ann: Tim dear, you have never wanted to hurt a fly in your life.
Tim: Oh yes, I have. When I first fell in love with you, I wanted to kill Ninian.
Ann: And now?
Tim: Now I just want to have him killed—not by my own hand, but impersonally. You see, Ann, you have taught me that there is something unblessed about the things you do for your own sake. Does it sound priggish? I mean that now I quite honestly don’t think about how things will affect me, but how they will affect you. It has made me so happy.
Ann: I don’t deserve it.
Tim: I don’t mean that I don’t want you with every breath of my body; the whole of me is yearning for you all the time. I feel a burning wave sweep through me whenever you walk into the room. When I hear your name suddenly, it makes me feel sick and giddy and excited. If I meet you unexpectedly I am like a nervous actor in the wings, waiting for his cue.
Ann: Tim....
Tim: Does it worry you if I talk like that? I am not trying to appeal to you, or fuss you, dearest. God knows I’m not.
Ann: I know, dear.