_] I love you. I--how can I
tell you--but I do, I do, and you won't believe me.
_He remains silent for a moment and then takes her by the hand, leads
her over to the chair and places her in it._
JOHN. I think you do as far as you are able; but, Laura, I guess you
don't know what a decent sentiment is. [_He gathers himself together.
His tone is very gentle and very firm, but it carries a tremendous
conviction, even with his grief ringing through his speech._] Laura,
you're not immoral, you're just unmoral, kind o' all out of shape, and
I'm afraid there isn't a particle of hope for you. When we met neither
of us had any reason to be proud, but I thought that you thought that
it was the chance of salvation which sometimes comes to a man and a
woman fixed as we were then. What had been had been. It was all in the
great to-be for us, and now, how you've kept your word! What little
that promise meant, when I thought you handed me a new lease of life!
LAURA. [_In a voice that is changed and metallic. She is literally
being nailed to the cross._] You're killing me--killing me.
JOHN. Don't make such a mistake. In a month you'll recover. There will
be days when you will think of me, just for a moment, and then it
will be all over. With you it is the easy way, and it always will be.
You'll go on and on until you're finally left a wreck, just the type
of the common woman. And you'll sink until you're down to the very
bed-rock of depravity.
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