"You're rotten to the core and so am I. But you're heathenishly beautiful."

The woman went over to the piano--stood there--striking one note--her brows drawn together. Then she shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

"I'll make a confession. Every word you have said is true. I can't help it. I can't help seeking admiration any more than a cat can help going to people to be stroked. It's my nature. I'm born out of my time. And yet, you know, I'm not a COMMON woman. I like men to adore me--to flatter me-- even to make love to me--but I would never give myself to any man. I would never let a man kiss me... even."

"It's immeasurably worse--you've no legitimate excuse. Why, even a prostitute has a greater sense of generosity!"

"I know," she said, "I know perfectly well--but I can't help the way I'm built...Are you going?"

"Well," he said, "what's going to happen to us now?"

Again she shrugged her shoulders.

"I haven't the slightest idea. I never have--just let things occur."