"We won't discuss that."
"She'll climb on you to what she wants higher up still. She won't bring you nothing but misery, Harry. I know what I'm saying; she'll—"
"You're talking about something you know nothing about—you—"
"I do. I do. You're hypnotized, Harry. It's her looks. Her dressing like a snake. Her hair. I can get mine fixed redder 'n hers, Harry. It takes a little time. Mine's only started to turn, Harry, is why it don't look right yet to you. This dress, it's from her own dressmaker. Harry—I promise you I can make myself like—her—I promise you, Harry—"
"For God's sake, Millie, don't talk like—that! It's awful! What's those things got to do with it? It's—awful!"
"They have, Harry. They have, only a man don't know it. She's a bad woman,
Harry—she's got you fascinated with the way she dresses and does—"
"We won't go into that."
"We will. We will. I got the right. I don't have to let you go if I don't want to. I'm the mother of your son. I'm the wife that was good enough for you in the days when you needed her. I—"
"You can't throw that up to me, Millie. I've squared that debt."
"She'll throw you over, Harry, when I'll stand by you to the crack of doom.
Take my word for it, Harry. O God! Harry, please take my word for it!"