Amy. Yes, I wouldn't like to have been the means of smashing you, Henry ... especially as you don't care for me.
Trebell. I intend to care for you.
Amy. Love me, I mean. I wish you did ... a little; then perhaps I shouldn't feel so degraded.
Trebell. [A shade impatiently, a shade contemptuously] I can say I love you if that'll make things easier.
Amy. [More helpless than ever.] If you'd said it at first I should be taking it for granted ... though it wouldn't be any more true, I daresay, than now ... when I should know you weren't telling the truth.
Trebell. Then I'd do without so much confusion.
Amy. Don't be so heartless.
Trebell. [As he leaves her.] We seem to be attaching importance to such different things.
Amy. [Shrill even at a momentary desertion.] What do you mean? I want affection now just as I want food. I can't do without it ... I can't reason things out as you can. D'you think I haven't tried? [Then in sudden rebellion.] Oh, the physical curse of being a woman ... no better than any savage in this condition ... worse off than an animal. It's unfair.
Trebell. Never mind ... you're here now to hand me half the responsibility, aren't you?