"You don't know what it is to live in my mother's house," she said.
"I've heard what it is to live in Cornelia's house," he retorted. "She casts a spell over young girls before they know her well. But she is selfish and moody. Her friendships always end in violent quarrels. She is now on the verge of a break with Mazie Ross."
"She may have very good grounds for the break."
"Oh, she's never at a loss for grounds. That isn't the point."
"What is the point?"
"The atmosphere of the Lorillard tenements. It isn't made for you to breathe in. Have you any idea what the people there are like? Gangsters, anarchists and fake artists or writers, with a very small sprinkling of well-meaning idealists, most of whom are cracked on social questions. The men are all out of business, the women all out of marriage. On the loose, every one of them, either in their actions, or in their beliefs."
"You mean they don't believe in marriage? Well, after all I've seen of family life, I don't believe in marriage either."
This was a confession which, by way of bait, many another girl had made to him.
"That's the sort of thing for a girl like Mazie to say," he said coldly, "but not for a girl like you."
Concern for himself had rapidly taken the place of concern for her.