I don't know how to say it, but I think when good people play, they have to be very, very good, or they don't really enjoy it.

I don't know how to explain it, but the moderate sort of goodness spoils everything." Caius, when he had said this, felt that it was something he had never thought before; and, whatever it might mean, he felt instinctively that it meant a great deal more than he knew.

He felt a little shabby at having expressed it from her religious point of view, in which he had no part; but his excuse was that there was in his mind at least the doubt that she might be right, and, whether or not, his mission just then was to gain her confidence.

He brushed scruples aside for the end in view.
"I am glad you said that," she said.

"I am not good, but I should like to be.