look at me as if I--frightened you!

AGNES. Lucas--Lucas dear, for some weeks, now, I've wanted to say this
to you.

LUCAS. What?

AGNES. Don't you think that such a union as ours would be much braver,
much more truly courageous, if it could but be--be--

LUCAS. If it could but be--what?

AGNES. [Averting her eyes.] Devoid of passion, if passion had no share
in it.

LUCAS. Surely this comes a little late, Agnes, between you and me.

AGNES. [Leaning upon the back of a chair, staring before her and
speaking in a low, steady voice.] What has been was inevitable, I
suppose. Still, we have hardly yet set foot upon the path we've agreed
to follow. It is not too late for us, in our own lives, to pit the
highest interpretation upon that word--Love. Think of the inner
sustaining power it would give us! [More forcibly.] We agree to go
through the world together, preaching the lesson taught us by our
experiences. We cry out to all people, "Look at us! Man and woman who
are in the bondage of neither law nor ritual! Linked simply by mutual
trust! Man and wife, but something better than man and wife! Friends,
but even something better than friends!" I say there is that which is
noble, finely defiant, in the future we have mapped out for ourselves,
if only--if only--