Brodie. Perhaps you may be able to do without it altogether. I hope so. For you’ll never have it.... Mary! ... I hate to see you look like that. If I could say anything else, believe me, I would say it. But I have said all; every word is spoken; there’s the end.
Mary. It shall not be the end. You owe me explanation; and I’ll have it.
Brodie. Isn’t my “No” enough, Mary?
Mary. It might be enough for me; but it is not, and it cannot be, enough for him. He has asked me to be his wife; he tells me his happiness is in my hands—poor hands, but they shall not fail him, if my poor heart should break! If he has chosen and set his hopes upon me, of all women in the world, I shall find courage somewhere to be worthy of the choice. And I dare you to leave this room until you tell me all your thoughts—until you prove that this is good and right.
Brodie. Good and right? They are strange words, Mary. I mind the time when it was good and right to be your father’s daughter and your brother’s sister.... Now!...
Mary. Have I changed? Not even in thought. My father, Walter says, shall live and die with us. He shall only have gained another son. And you—you know what he thinks of you; you know what I would do for you.
Brodie. Give him up.
Mary. I have told you: not without a reason.
Brodie. You must.
Mary. I will not.