"I agree. Shall I find you one?"
"Please! No. You are hurting me. How can you talk like that?"
"What have I said?"
"You don't love me at all, not at all. You can't if you can think of my marrying another woman."
"On the contrary, it is because I love you that I should be happy to do anything which could make you happy."
"Then, if that is true…."
"No, no. Don't go back to that. I tell you, it would make you miserable."
"Don't worry about me. I swear to you that I shall be happy! Speak the truth: do you think that you would be unhappy with me?"
"Oh! Unhappy? No, my dear. I respect and admire you too much ever to be unhappy with you…. But, I will tell you: I don't think anything could make me very unhappy now. I have seen too much. I have become philosophical…. But, frankly—(You want me to? You won't be angry?)—well. I know my own weakness. I should, perhaps, be foolish enough, after a few months, not to be perfectly happy with you; and I will not have that, just because my affection for you is the most holy thing in the world, and I will not have it tarnished."
Sadly, he said: