Overman put his hand on Gordon’s knee.
“Frank, I’m a godless, crusty bachelor, but I read history. Destroy the integrity of the family and the salt of the earth is lost. The whole thing will rot.”
“But I propose to purify and glorify the home its life by building it on love.”
“Your dream’s a fake and its world peopled with fools.”
“Love must conquer all,” the dreamer insisted.
“And to do it, Frank, it must begin at home. You are blinded by a woman’s beauty.”
“No; I love her with the one master passion of manhood. Such love is itself the highest expression of life.”
“Confound you,” snapped Overman, “love as many women as you please, but don’t desert your wife and children. It’s too vulgar. I’m ashamed of you.”
“I will not live a lie,” Gordon said, with emphasis.
“Strange madness. I urge you to tell a tiny little polite lie and save your wife and children. You’re too good to lie, so you kill your wife, proclaim an insane crusade of lust, and call it a religion!”