"She's quite indifferent how much he soils his wings."
The Seraph was left to digest the unspoken antithesis. His face gradually lost the flush it had taken on after their encounter at the raft, his eyes grew calmer and his hands steadier; on the subject of their contention, however, he remained impenitent.
"I shan't say good-bye till you honestly tell me you don't want to see me again."
"You know I can't say that, Seraph."
"Very well, then."
"But it isn't! The good you do me is simply not worth the harm you do yourself. It didn't matter so much till Sylvia came to be reckoned with."
The Seraph shifted impatiently in his corner.
"Neither Sylvia Roden nor any other woman or man in the world is going to dictate who I may associate with, or who I mayn't."
"You must make an exception to the rule in her case."
"Why should I?"