AMY. That wouldn't break my heart. You'd marry me, wouldn't you? We
could go away somewhere. I could be very fond of you, Henry.
TREBELL. [_Marvelling at these tangents._] Marry you! I should murder
you in a week.
_This sounds only brutal to her; she lets herself be shamed._
AMY. You've no more use for me than the use you've made of me.
TREBELL. [_Logical again._] Won't you realise that there's a third party
to our discussion . . that I'm of no importance beside him and you of
very little. Think of the child.
AMY _blazes into desperate rebellion_.
AMY. There's no child because I haven't chosen there shall be and there
shan't be because I don't choose. You'd have me first your plaything and
then Nature's, would you?
TREBELL. [_A little abashed._] Come now, you knew what you were about.
AMY. [_Thinking of those moments._] Did I? I found myself wanting you,
belonging to you suddenly. I didn't stop to think and explain. But are
we never to be happy and irresponsible . . never for a moment?
TREBELL. Well . . one can't pick and choose consequences.
AMY. Your choices in life have made you what you want to be, haven't
they? Leave me mine.
TREBELL. But it's too late to argue like that.
AMY. If it is, I'd better jump into the Thames. I've thought of it.
_He considers how best to make a last effort to bring her to her senses.
He sits by her._