"Good Lord! You--you can't be making me an offer of marriage ?" "Heaven forbid!" she cried.

"I have had all I want of marriage, my friend.

You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that again.
No, no! I do not desire to marry you, Mr.Percivail.Nothing so dreadful as that! Suppose we would be married,--what zen?
Poof! Because I am an honest woman I would have to tell you some time zat I have had ze honour to be once the mistress of a Crown Prince,--and then you would hold up your holy hands and cry out, 'My God, what kind of a woman is this I have marry ?' and--Oh, but I would not tell you about zat Crown Prince until we have been married a year or two, so do not look so pleased! In a year you would be hating me so much zat you would rejoice to hear about the Crown Prince, and I would be loathing you so much zat I would probably have to kill you,--because I do not believe in divorce any more than I believe in marriage.

You see?
Most women hate their husbands.
They never hate their lovers.

It is so difficult to get rid of the one, and so easy to keep the other,--zat is the explanation.