"But I suppose you have some idea of common decency, if you have none of honour----"
"I hope I have."
"And I ask you if you think it's decent, directly a woman has promised a man to be his wife, to go behind his back and induce the woman to dishonour herself and him?"
"But that is not what I have done."
"It is what you have done. One day Miss Truscott promises to be my wife, the next--directly my back is turned--you come and persuade her to be false to herself and me."
"My good Ely, there is one factor you are omitting from your calculations, and that is--love."
"Which with you stands higher--love or honesty?"
"Oh, they both go hand-in-hand. Would it have been honest for her to have married you when she loved me?"
"Pooh! Stuff and nonsense! I never heard such impudence! What the dickens do you mean by saying that the woman who has promised to be my wife loves you?"
"You perceive, it is from that that I saved you--that curse of all existence, that canker which eats into the very root of life--a loveless marriage. But there are not many signs of gratitude, that I can see."