"It is this belief—that one does not die with death!"
"That is our comfort."
"When we love?"
"Does it not promise that we meet again?"
"To walk the world and see you perhaps—with another!"
"See me?—Where? Here?"
"Wedded . . . to another. You! my bride; whom I call mine; and you are! You would be still—in that horror! But all things are possible; women are women; they swim in infidelity, from wave to wave! I know them."
"Willoughby, do not torment yourself and me, I beg you."
He meditated profoundly, and asked her: "Could you be such a saint among women?"
"I think I am a more than usually childish girl."