Komarovsky: [speaking of Pasha Antipov] Lara, I am determined to save you from a dreadful error. There are two kinds of men, and only two, and that young man is one kind. He is high-minded. He is pure. He is the kind of man that the world pretends to look up to and in fact despises. He is the kind of man who breeds unhappiness; particularly in women. Now, do you understand?
Lara: No.
Komarovsky: I think you do. There's another kind. Not high-minded. Not pure. But alive. Now that your taste at this time should incline towards the juvenile is understandable. But for you to marry that boy would be a disaster. Because there's two kinds of women. [Lara puts her hands to her ears; he snatches them away] There are two kinds of women and you - as we well know - are not the first kind. [Lara slaps him. He slaps her back, harder] You, my dear, are a slut.
Lara: I am not!
Komarovsky: We'll see.
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