Beaufort: You refuse such an invitation on threat of death.
Ellen: Is it so bad?
Beaufort: Not if you have a taste for slow agony.
Ellen: It is something I've neglected to cultivate.
Beaufort: Three days with the van der Luydens! Take your fur and a hot-water bottle.
Ellen: Is the house that cold?
Beaufort: No, but Louisa is.
Ellen: Mr. Archer.
Beaufort: Join me at Delmonico's on Sunday instead. I'm having an oyster supper in your honor. Private room, congenial company, artists and so on.
Ellen: That's very tempting. I haven't met a single artist since I have been here.
Newland: I know one or two painters I could bring to see you if you allow me.
Beaufort: Painters? Are there any painters in New York?
Ellen: Thank you, but I was really thinking of singers, actors, musicians...dramatic artists. There were always so many at my husband's house. May I write tomorrow night to let you know? It's too late to decide this evening.
Beaufort: Is this late?
Ellen: Yes, because I still have to talk business with Mr. Archer.
Beaufort: Of course, Newland, if you can persuade the countess to change her mind about Sunday, you can join us too.
Ellen: You know painters, then? You live in their milieu?
Newland: Not exactly.
Ellen: But you care about such things?
Newland: Immensely. When I'm in Paris or London, I never miss an exhibition. I try to keep up.
Ellen: I used to care immensely too. My life was full of such things. But now I want to cast off all my old life to become a complete American, and try to be like everybody else.
Newland: I don’t think you'll ever quite be like everybody else.
Ellen: Don't say that to me, please. I just want to put all the old things behind me.
Newland: I know. Mr. Letterblair told me.
Ellen: Mr. Letterblair?
Newland: Yes, I've come because he asked me to. I'm in the firm.
Ellen: You mean it'll be you who'll manage everything for me? I can talk to you. That's easier.
Newland: Yes, I'm here to talk about it. I've read all the legal papers. And the letter from the count.
Ellen: It was vile.
Newland: But if he chooses to fight the case, he can say things that might be un... might be disagreeable to you. Say them publicly...so that they could be damaging even if...
Newland: Even if they were unfounded.
Ellen: What harm could accusations like that do me here?
Newland: Perhaps more harm than anywhere else. Our legislation favors divorce, but our social customs don't.
Newland: Well, not if the woman...has appearances...in the least degree against her, has exposed herself by any unconventional behavior...to offensive insinuations and...
Ellen: Yes. So my family tell me. Our family. You'll be my cousin soon. And you agree with them?
Newland: What could you possibly gain that would make up for the scandal?
Ellen: My freedom.
Newland: But aren't you free already? It's my business to help you see these things just the way the people who are fondest of you see them...your friends and relations. If I didn't show you honestly how they judge such matters, it wouldn't be fair, would it?
Ellen: No, it wouldn't be fair. Very well. I'll do as you wish.
Newland: I do want to help you.
Ellen: You do help me. Good night, cousin.