"... As a matter of fact, the person who loves everybody and feels at home everywhere is the true hater of mankind. He expects nothing of men, so no form of depravity can outrage him."And ...
"... Those who speak of love most promiscuously are the ones who've never felt it. They make some sort of feeble stew out of sympathy, compasson, contempt and general indifference, and they call it love. Once you've felt what it means to love as you and I know it—the total passion for the total height—you're incapable of anything less."That's right: überlove. Catch it.
I could not make this stuff up.
Not only that; Wynand has never felt small while looking at the stars, or the Grand Canyon. Because man is mightier than all that nature crap.
Gee, hubristic much?
Nature never did much for Dominique either; it's buildings—like the New York skyline—that make her shiver. Wynand: Same for me!
—OMG! You're me!
—And you're me!
—I love me!
—And I love me too!
—Will we marry us?
—Yes, we will!
Then it's settled: The yacht trip will be one week instead of two. As soon as they return, Dominique will get a Reno divorce, and then she and Wynand will marry. Keating can still build Stoneridge.
And they decide to remain chaste till their wedding night. To keep things pure (although there would be nothing impure if they did fool around).
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