human
Martin, I . . . I can't do it,
gpt
You think it would be wrong?
human
Yes.
gpt
A sin?
human
Yes
gpt
In that case there is nothing more to say. . . . There isn't, is there?
human
I thought . . . as there was no other way of escape from this terrible marriage . . . but if you think . . .
gpt
I suppose you know what this means for you, Mary--that after all the degradation you have gone through you are shutting the door to a worthier, purer life, and that . . .
human
But would it be a purer life, Martin, if it began in sin? No, no, it wouldn't, it couldn't. Oh, you can't think how hard it is to deny myself the happiness you offer me. It's harder than all the miseries my husband has inflicted upon me. But it wouldn't be happiness, because our sin would stand between us. That would always be there, Martin--every day, every night, as long as ever we lived. . . . We should never know one really happy hour. I'm sure we should not. I should be unhappy myself and I should make you unhappy. Oh, I daren't! I daren't! Don't ask me, I beg--I beseech you.