[She shakes her head, gazing at him soberly.
Ernest
So you could not sleep? Neither could I; I was too happy to sleep. I was afraid I'd miss some wondrous throbbing thought of your loveliness. [Takes her passive hand, puts a kiss in it, and closes it reverently while she looks into his eyes without moving.] Do you know, I'm disappointed in love. I always thought it meant soft sighs and pretty speeches. It means an agony of longing, delicious agony, but, oh, terrific. [She says nothing.] Dear, dear girl, it may be easy for you, but I can't stand much more of this.
Helen
Nor I.
Ernest
You must come to Paris with me or I'll stay home. All through the night I had waking visions of our being parted. Just when we had found each other at last. Some terrible impersonal monster stepped in between us and said: "No. Now that you have had your glimpse of heaven—away! Ye twain shall not enter here...." Silly, wasn't it? But I couldn't get the horror of it out of my head.
Helen
[nodding]
Do you know why, Ernest? Because it was in mine. It came from my thought to yours. You and I are attuned like wireless instruments. Even in the old blind days, there in the laboratory I used to read your mind. Shall I tell you the name of the monster that would put us asunder?... Its name is Marriage.