"You don't!" Patricia flashed back.
"Indeed I do. With all my heart."
Patricia sat down again, restlessly, on the arm of her chair. "Your heart is not involved in the matter, is it? Quite frankly, now? You must have been dying to say so to someone, since ages. And why not to me?"
"And why shouldn't we all be great friends?—is that the idea?... Really, my dear child, your views are startlingly up-to-date, and your insolence truly remarkable. Are you aware that in the sight of convention and our neighbours, you've done me a bitter wrong?"
"I haven't—yet. And it's not a question of you and me; it's a question of Gareth's happiness."
"Ah ... Gareth's happiness."
"Sneer!—that proves how much it needs attending to."
"Well ... what do you want me to do?"
"Divorce him."
"Hm! You might have hurled that at me on entrance, instead of shilly-shallying."