GUSTAV. Pray excuse me, woman's love consists simply in this--in taking in, in receiving. She does not love the man from whom she takes nothing: she has never loved you. [_He turns round behind the square table and walks to Adolf's right._] ADOLF. I suppose you don't think that she'd be able to love more than once? GUSTAV. No. Once bit, twice shy. After the first time, one keeps one's eyes open, but you have never been really bitten yet. You be careful of those who have; they're dangerous customers. [_He goes round the circular table on the right._] ADOLF. What you say jabs a knife into my flesh. I've got a feeling as though something in me were cut through, but I can do nothing to stop it all by myself, and it's as well it should be so, for abscesses will be opened in that way which would otherwise never be able to come to a head. She never loved me? Why did she marry me, then? GUSTAV. Tell me first how it came about that she did marry you, and whether she married you or you her? ADOLF. God knows! That's much too hard a question to be answered offhand, and how did it take place?--it took more than a day. GUSTAV. Shall I guess? [_He goes behind the round table, toward the left, and sits on the sofa._] ADOLF. You'll get nothing for your pains. GUSTAV. Not so fast! From the insight which you've given me into your own character, and that of your wife, I find it pretty easy to work out the sequence of the whole thing. Listen to me and you'll be quite convinced. [_Dispassionately and in an almost jocular tone._] The husband happened to be traveling on study and she was alone. At first she found a pleasure in being free. Then she imagined that she felt the void, for I presume that she found it pretty boring after being alone for a fortnight. Then he turned up, and the void begins gradually to be filled--the picture of the absent man begins gradually to fade in comparison, for the simple reason that he is a long way off--you know of course the psychological algebra of distance? And when both of them, alone as they were, felt the awakening of passion, they were frightened of themselves, of him, of their own conscience. They sought for protection, skulked behind the fig-leaf, played at brother and sister, and the more sensual grew their feelings the more spiritual did they pretend their relationship really was. ADOLF. Brother and sister! How did you know that?