this renunciation must be hard for you to bear."

"I confess it, but nevertheless I feel it is my duty. I have made up my
mind to subdue my passion from no weak motive, but from a sense of what I
owe to myself. I am under obligations to you, and if I were to repay the
debt I have contracted with my body I should be degraded in my own eyes.
When we enjoyed each other before only love was between us--there was no
question of debit and credit. My heart is now the thrall of what I owe
you, and to these debts it will not give what it gave so readily to
love."

"This is a strange philosophy, Sara; believe me it is fallacious, and the
enemy of your happiness as well as mine. These sophisms lead you astray
and wound me to the heart. Give me some credit for delicacy of feeling,
and believe me you owe me nothing."

"You must confess that if you had not loved me you would have done
nothing for my father."

"Certainly I will confess nothing of the kind; I would readily do as
much, and maybe more, out of regard for your worthy mother. It is quite
possible, indeed, that in doing this small service for your father I had
no thoughts of you at all."

"It might be so; but I do not believe it was so. Forgive me, dearest, but
I cannot make up my mind to pay my debts in the way you wish."

"It seems to me that if you are grateful to me your love ought to be
still more ardent."