The obstacles in the way of his desire seemed to him purely artificial, and yet he could see no way of removing them.

Mary's words, the tone of her voice even, angered him, for she would not help him.

She was part of the insanely jumbled muddle of a world which impedes the sensible life.

He would have liked to slam the door or break the hind legs of a chair, for the obstacles had taken some such curiously substantial shape in his mind.
"I doubt that one human being ever understands another," he said, stopping in his march and confronting Mary at a distance of a few feet.
"Such damned liars as we all are, how can we?
But we can try.

If you don't want to marry me, don't; but the position you take up about love, and not seeing each other--isn't that mere sentimentality?
You think I've behaved very badly," he continued, as she did not speak.