"What did it mean—to you?"
He appeared to plunge into deep memories before he answered her.
"To me it was simply the supreme intellectual interest. It was the strongest and the strangest intellectual influence I had ever felt. You'll never quite know what it meant to me."
"And it means nothing now—you don't like it—my poor genius? And they used to say you were in love with it."
"So I was, Jinny, before I saw you."
"You were in love enough to marry it."
"I didn't marry it. It wouldn't marry me."
"Is that why you hate it? Darling, you can't hate it as much as I do."
"I don't hate it. But you can't expect me to love it as I love my wife."
"But I'm not your wife. Your wife wouldn't behave like this. Would you like me better if I didn't?"