Ann: You have created me in your own image, giving me all your own lovely qualities. They are a divine gift, Tim. Thank you for them.
Tim: What nonsense you talk. Everyone becomes good when they are with you.
Ann: Some day you may find out terrible things about me—and then what shall I do?
Tim: What you did wouldn’t matter, anyway.
Ann (looking at him intensely): Wouldn’t it? Are you sure?
Tim: Quite sure. It’s what you are. The warm glowing light you give. It doesn’t matter into what dark corners it goes, does it?
Ann (in a whisper): I wonder.
Tim: The places it lights and warms aren’t part of the sun, are they?
Ann: But people don’t work in that magnificent way. They select their just and their unjust. What human being is impartial?