ur life was spent in a confusion of
all moral values as mine is, you would be anxious for a little
straightforward computation for a change."

"Perhaps you are right," Michael admitted, "in thinking that I'm asking
you to look after Lily to relieve myself of a responsibility. But it's
only because I see no chance of doing it in any other way. I mean--it's
not laziness on my part. It's a confession of absolute failure."

"In fact, you're throwing yourself on my mercy," Sylvia said.

"Yes; and also her," he added gently.

"Am I such a moral companion--such an ennobling influence?"

"I would sooner think of her under your influence than think of her
drifting. What I want you to understand is that I'm not consigning her
to you for sentimental reasons. I would sooner that Lily were dragged
down by you at a gallop than that she should sink slowly and lazily of
her own accord. You have a strong personality. You are well-read. You
are quite out of the common, and in the life you have chosen, so far as
I have had experience, you are unique."

Sylvia stared in front of her, and Michael waited anxiously for the
reply.

"Have you ever read Petronius?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes, but what an extraordinary girl you are--have you ever read
Petronius?"

"It's the only book in which anyone in my position with my brains could
behold herself. Oh, it is such a nightmare. And life is a nightmare,
too. After all, what is life for me? Strange doors in strange houses.
Strange men and strange intimacies. Scenes incredibly grotesque and
incredibly beastly. The secret vileness of human nature flung at me. Man
revealing himself through individual after individual as utterly
contemptible. What can I worship? Not my own body soiled by my traffic
in it. Not any religion I've ever heard of, for in all religions man is
set up to be respected. I tell you, my dear eager fool, it is beyond my
conception ever, ever, ever to regard a man as higher than a frog, as
less repulsive than--ugh! it makes me shudder--but oh, my son, doesn't
it make me laugh...." She rocked herself with extravagant mirth for a
moment. Then she began again, staring out in front of her intensely,
fiercely, speaking with the monotonous voice of a visionary. "So I
worship woman, and in this nightmare city, in this nightmare life, Lily
was always beautiful; only beautiful, mind you. I don't want to worship
anything but beauty. I don't care about purity or uprightness, but I
mus