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Mary Longstreet: Why are you packing? Are we going somewhere?
Professor Charles Rankin: We aren't, dearest. I am.
Mary Longstreet: What are you talking about?
Professor Charles Rankin: As a rule, men leave their wives because they don't love them, but...I must leave you because I do. Oh, you won't object once you know the kind of man you've married.
Mary Longstreet: But you are the man I've married, and that's all that matters. Darling, I meant it when I said for better or for worse. Even to...
Professor Charles Rankin: To killing Red?
Mary Longstreet: You couldn't have. It was an accident.
Professor Charles Rankin: No, I meant to kill him. Murder can be a chain, Mary, one link leading to another until it circles your neck. Red was digging at the grave of the man I killed. Yes, your little man.
Mary Longstreet: You killed him?
Professor Charles Rankin: With these hands. The same hands that have held you close to me. Now are you satisfied to let me go?
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