human
Dearest, I don't want you to interpret what I said, or looked, a moment ago. You startled me a little, and-- He pauses a moment, then goes on:
gpt
And I want to tell you why. I have had one dream since I have known you and loved you. I have dreamed of you as my wife, my very dearer self, surrounded with the refinements and sweetnesses of life; loving me, thinking with me, always near me. And to complete the dream were our children, little men and women; a part of your own dear, beautiful self; their little minds and faces reflecting you; little men and women that should enter upon life with the love of a man and woman who worshipped them for each other's sake. I have in imagination seen these little beings develop mentally, and morally, and physically, until I beheld the little woman, the model of my Helen, and the little man, a lover of his mother. I have not seemed to think of myself and these children, but of you and them. I think I should not love them because they were mine, but because they were yours. I--
human
I have dreamed all this over and over, dear. Perhaps it will not be a vain dream, but--it _must not be fulfilled now_.
gpt
No, not now; not for a few years. We need each other just now, with nothing to divide our love or thought or care with. We do not want to bring beggars into the world. They would not be quite that, now, but not much better. I remember my own youth, tightening his fingers on the arm of his chair and speaking a little harshly,
human
I remember my own youth. My children shall never have such memories--nor such temptations--no, nor such guilt.
gpt
If our children have ambitions that are good and true, I pray God that I may be able to allow them to live, yes and thrive. There is such a thing as moral suicide. I do not want to attend the moral funeral of my children, feeling that they have died for the reason that they have had no opportunity. I am unfit now, and for perhaps years to come, to have any hand in the moral charge of my children. I shall have no time, and you-- looking hungrily at her--
human
I want you. I cannot spare you just now _even_ to my children--your children, our children,
gpt
Now, do you understand me, dear? Now, is there a little less heart-ache and reproach?