[With a movement of despair.] I really think you loathe me.
Basil.
For Heaven's sake, Jenny, let us finish with it. I'm very sorry. I don't wish to be unkind to you. But you must have seen that—that I didn't care for you. What's the good of going on humbugging, and pretending, and making ourselves utterly wretched?
Jenny.
Yes, I've seen it. But I wouldn't believe it. When I've put my hand on your shoulder, I've seen that you could hardly help shuddering. And sometimes when I've kissed you, I've seen you put out all your strength to prevent yourself from pushing me away.
Basil.
Jenny, I can't help it if I don't love you. I can't help it if I—if I love some one else.
Jenny.
[Dazed and cowed.] What are you going to do?
Basil.