ROSALIND: Don’t be a silly idiot. You know you’re the only man I’ve ever loved, ever will love.
AMORY: (Quickly) Rosalind, let’s get married—next week.
ROSALIND: We can’t.
AMORY: Why not?
ROSALIND: Oh, we can’t. I’d be your squaw—in some horrible place.
AMORY: We’ll have two hundred and seventy-five dollars a month all told.
ROSALIND: Darling, I don’t even do my own hair, usually.
AMORY: I’ll do it for you.
ROSALIND: (Between a laugh and a sob) Thanks.
AMORY: Rosalind, you can’t be thinking of marrying some one else. Tell me! You leave me in the dark. I can help you fight it out if you’ll only tell me.