February 1913
Matthew and Mary
"Marry me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't love you and you don't love me."
"Does that matter?"
"Yes, it matters a great deal."
"I'll keep asking you."
"And I'll keep refusing you."
"If I loved you, that would hurt."
"But you don't. And it's not about you, it's about us. How could we ever be happy together? All we do is fight."
"No Mary, we don't fight. We argue. There's a difference. And you know there is. You are too intelligent not to know."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere."
"I know. That's why I never compliment you on your dress or hairstyle or whatever else fashionable ladies like to be complimented on by single men."
"So you don't think I'm fashionable."
"I don't think you are vain enough for it to be important to you to be complimented on it by a man you don't love."
"My father says that it would be a gamble."
"What would be a gamble?"
"If we got married. We'd gamble on our happiness. But he thinks that not marrying you would be an even riskier gamble."
"I'd be ready to gamble on us. The question is are you."
"No."
"Think about it. Please."