You and I, we must carry on, Gemma. I cannot afford the luxury of love. I must marry well. And now I must look after you. It is my duty.” “If you wish to suffer, you do so of your own free will, not on my behalf. Or Father’s or Grandmama’s or anyone’s. You are a fine physician, Thomas. Why is that not enough?” “Because it isn’t,” he says with a rare candor. “Only this and the hope of nothing more? A quiet respectability with no true greatness or heroism in it, with only my reputation to recommend me. So you see, Gemma, you are not the only one who cannot rule her own life.