You forget what marriage is. It makes us one flesh. I am bidden to cleave to you and to follow you. How can I, when our souls must ever be separated by an unsurpassable abyss?
Mrs. Wharton.
Sylvia, this is a dreadfully grave decision you’re making. Be careful that you’re acting rightly.
John.
Sylvia, you can’t throw me over like this after we’ve been engaged for seven years. It’s too heartless.
Sylvia.
I don’t trust you. I have no hold over you. What have you to aim at beside the satisfaction of your own vulgar appetite? Sin means nothing to you.
John.
My dear, you don’t suppose it’s religion that makes a man decent? If he’s kind and honest and truthful it’s because it’s his nature, not because he believes in God or fears hell.
Sylvia.