Diane. Yes, yes, I have. Nanette, when he was little, when he was a boy growing up, did you never think of me?
Nanette. Of you!
Diane. Yes, of the woman who would eventually take your place. Didn't you think of what she would be like, didn't you plan her, didn't you pray that she might be fine and great and beautiful? I know you did. You must have! Well, I tried to mold myself that way. I tried to be worthy of every dream you could have had for him, that his mother could have had. That is how I loved him.
Nanette. Do you know what I thought of when the idea of a woman for Maurice came into my mind? I thought that when she came—if she ever did—
[She pauses, looking ahead of her.]
Diane. Yes?
Nanette [turning and looking at Diane vindictively]. I would kill her!
Diane. Nanette, I would have killed myself rather than harm Maurice.
Nanette. Then why did you allow him to throw himself away?
Diane. Throw himself away! Nanette, I never knew what love was until Maurice came. I was older than he. I knew life better. I knew myself better. I had struggled. You say that you had to struggle because you weren't pretty. I had to struggle because I was. You can't know what it is to have every other man you meet want to possess you, not because he loves you, but because your face suggests love to him and he hasn't learned to know the difference. He finds that out later, and then he reproaches you for being beautiful.