He might laugh at you.

But there's no use talking about it.

If you can think in that way you can't care for me--yet.' The tide had nearly covered the mud-banks and twenty little ripples broke on the beach before Maisie chose to speak.
'Dick,' she said slowly, 'I believe very much that you are better than I am.' 'This doesn't seem to bear on the argument--but in what way ?' 'I don't quite know, but in what you said about work and things; and then you're so patient.

Yes, you're better than I am.' Dick considered rapidly the murkiness of an average man's life.

There was nothing in the review to fill him with a sense of virtue.