WALTER. [_Breaking in sulkily and stamping his foot._] Never mind about
who it was.

BETTY. [_Passionately._] Never mind! You dare!

WALTER. [_Doggedly._] Yes--I dare. And look here--since you force me to
it--that's all rot--yes, it is--just rot. Just as you like it now, hearing
Hector ask me to stop with you, and kissing me the moment his back is
turned--so you met me halfway, and more than halfway.

BETTY. You cur!

WALTER. That's what a woman always says, when a man speaks the truth.
Because it _is_ the truth--and you know it. "The way I squeezed your
hand!" D'you think I _meant_ to squeeze it--in a way! Why, as there's a
Heaven above me, you were as sacred to me--as my own sister!

BETTY. [_Quietly, as she sits, to right of the table._] What I'm
wondering is--you see, you're the only lover I've had--what I wonder is,
when a man breaks off, tells a woman he's tired of her, wants to get
married--does he _always_ abuse the woman--

WALTER. [_Sulkily._] I haven't--

BETTY. Degrade, and throw mud on, the love she has had for him?

WALTER. [_With a bitter shrug._] Love--

BETTY. [_Passionately, as she springs to her feet._] Love, love, yes,