"True love— If this love exists between a man and a woman, then marriage is possible," said the lady.
"Yes. But what do you mean by true love?" said the gentleman of the sparkling eyes, with an awkward smile, and with timidity.
"Everybody knows what love is," said the lady, evidently wishing to break off her conversation with him.
"But I do not," said the gentleman. "You must define what you understand—"
"What? It is very simple," said the lady, but she stopped to think. "Love—love is the exclusive preference of one person to all others," she said.
"Preference for how long? For a month, or two, or for half an hour?" muttered the gray-haired gentleman, laughing.
"Excuse me, but you are evidently not speaking of the same thing."
"Yes, I am."
"The lady says," interposed the lawyer, pointing to the lady, "that marriage must, in the first place, spring from attachment,—love, if you please,—and only if such is on hand does marriage represent something sacred, so to speak then, that no marriage, without natural attachments—love, if you wish—at its base, carries any moral obligations with it. Do I understand you right?" he turned to the lady.
The lady with a nod of her head expressed her approval of the exposition of her idea.
"Besides—" the lawyer continued his speech, but the nervous gentleman, with eyes now aflame, not being able to repress himself any longer, did not allow the lawyer to finish it, and himself said:
"No, I have in mind that which you said about the preference of one to all the rest; but I ask: a preference for how long?"
