Sylvia, leaning over her desk, idling with pen and pencil, looked around from time to time, as though awaiting the opinion of some specialist who, in full possession of the facts, now had become responsible for the patient.
"If you marry him," said Mrs.Ferrall quietly, "your life will become a hell." "Yes.

But would it make life any easier for him ?" asked Sylvia.
"How--to know that you had been dragged down ?" "No.

I mean could I do anything for him ?" "No woman ever did.

That is a sentimental falsehood of the emotional.
No woman ever did help a man in that way.

Sylvia, if love were the only question, and if you do truly love him, I--well, I suppose I'd be fool enough to advise you to be a fool.