"
Austin was silent for a moment; then he muttered:
"Well, why doesn't she marry Jack Weston? She admits that it was half her
fault--and that he really does care for her."
"_Marry_ him!" Sylvia cried,--"_after that_! He cares for her as much as
it is in him to care for anybody--but you know perfectly well what he is!
Do you want her to tie herself forever to an ignorant, intemperate,
sensual man? Put herself where the nightmare of her folly would stare her
perpetually in the face! Where he'd throw it in her teeth every time he
was angry with her, that he married her out of charity--and probably tell
the whole countryside the same thing the first time he went to
Wallacetown on a Saturday evening and began to 'celebrate'? How much
chance for hope and salvation would be left for her then? Have you
forgotten something you said to me once--something which wiped away in
one instant all the bitterness and agony of three years, and sent
me--straight into your arms? 'The best part of a decent man's love is not
passion, but reverence; his greatest desire, not possession, but
protection; his ultimate aim, not gratification, but sacrifice.
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