"Even granting all that," said Lawrence, "why should you not bear with my peculiarities, and I with yours, and neither be the worse? That is very frequently done."
"Is it? I do not think it ought to be done."
"Let us prove that it can be. I will never interfere with you, Dolly."
"Yes, you would," said Dolly, dimpling all over again. "Do you think you would make up your mind to have no wine in your cellar or on your table? Take that for one thing. I should have no wine on mine."
"That's a crotchet of yours," said he, smiling at her: he thought if this were all, the thing might be managed.
"That is only one thing, Mr. St. Leger," Dolly went on very gravely now. "I should be unfashionable in a hundred ways, and you would not like that. I should spend money on objects and for causes that you would not care about nor agree to. I am telling you all this to reconcile you to doing without me."
"Your refusal is absolute, then?"
"Yes."
"You would not bring up these extraneous things, Dolly, if you had any love for me."
"I do not know why that should make any difference. It might make it hard."