"My dear Jerrold, it's the only sensible thing. Tell her straight and get her to divorce you."
"I was going to. Then she got ill and I couldn't."
"She isn't ill now."
"She will be if I tell her. It'll simply kill her."
"It won't. It may—even—cure her."
"It'll make her frightfully unhappy. And it'll bring back that infernal pain. If you'd seen her, Eliot, you'd know how impossible it is. We simply can't be swine. And if I could, Anne couldn't…. No. We've got to stick it somehow, Anne and I."
"It's all wrong, Jerrold."
"I know it's all wrong. But it's the best we can do. You don't suppose
Anne would be happy if we did Maisie down."
"No. No. She wouldn't. You're right there. But it's a damnable business."
"Oh, damnable, yes."