Michael.
Happier? Oh, my dear, with the knowledge of your love I should be able to endure anything!
Clare.
Even Patricia?
Michael.
Hush, Clare, hush!... Patricia’s is a pure and delicate soul. It is I who am unworthy, since I cannot return her wonderful love.... Little girl, do you understand that this love of yours may bring much suffering into your life? I can never, by word or deed, change my attitude towards Patricia—never! She must never know that I do not love her.... And what of us? Our love must stand alone in the world. It must be something wholly pure and noble and self-sacrificing—the love that asks for nothing, that hopes for nothing—the love of the angels that neither marry nor are given in marriage.... Do you realise all this?
Clare.
Yes.... You see, Mike, I always believe in platonic love.
Michael.
(A little doubtfully.) Platonic....