I don't want your pity. (Rises.)
Denham.
Perhaps I want yours.
Mrs. Denham.
(indignantly) Suppose you had caught me in a low intrigue, and I had dared to speak to you as you have spoken to me—without so much as a word that implied sorrow or repentance, what would you say to me?
Denham.
I would ask your forgiveness humbly enough if that were of any use. It isn't, I know. Sins that are instinctive, not of malice, lie too deep for forgiveness.
Mrs. Denham.
A fine aphorism, no doubt. How does it apply?
Denham.