back my conscience. I was well rid of it. I haven't felt such a reprobate since the first time I got drunk and Mama cried for two hours."
“ I am not crying,” she laughed at his boyish despair, and a little, too, at his using her first name without realizing it. “I am just a little surprised that you would be seen in such a public way with a—one of those women."
“Well, everyone does. Half the females there last night were prostitutes. I hold them to be every bit as respectable as a married woman who commits adultery—more so, in fact. They're not hypocrites. They have not promised to love, honour and obey anyone's desires but their own. Why should it add to a woman's virtue or reputation to deceive her husband with a lover? Surely that compounds the trespass. No, no, I won't allow anyone to tell me I must restrict my amours to married ladies."
“You ought to restrict yourself to an appearance at least of respectability."
“Where did you get the bizarre idea my Phyrne is not respectable? Top of the frees. She has none but the most elevated of lovers, and only one at a time. Unlike the married ladies, who require at least two, and preferably three or four. It is better to consort with a Phyrne than with a married lady. There is no question of it in my mind. Tell me you disagree. On what logical grounds can you possibly refute me?"
“I don't. There is much in what you say, but that is not to say that consorting with either one is good. You set up a home for ruined girls on one hand, and ruin them on the other. There is no logic in that."
“Prudence, we're talking about two very different species. Those little girls—young, ignorant without the sense to know what they're getting into ... My Phyrne—the mistresses of gentlemen, are in a different class entirely. They knowingly go into this sort of a life because they don't want to work. They prefer a life of leisure and luxury, they have a beautiful body to buy it with, and they sell it. It is a business transaction."
“Oh, don't try to tell me it is a good thing to keep a mistress."
“I didn't say it was good."
“You said it was better to have a mistress than to take another man's wife. Surely better is a degree of good. Take it a step further, you lover of logic, and you must agree best would be to take no lovers at all. A chaste married lady or a spinster is better than either a Phyrne or an adulteress, surely."
“Not to me she isn't,” he replied unequivocally. “Oh, all right, if you're talking theology or religion or some damned thing. I thought we were talking about real life, and not philosophy. In actual practice, it is less immoral —does that satisfy you—to keep an unmarried mistress than to go poaching on your friends’ private property."
“Yes, I'll accept that partial victory, before you convince me I'm a scoundrel for not selling my own old ramshackle body to help my uncle pay the bills."
“Oh, I don't go quite that far, Prudence,” he replied, throwing his head back in uncontrolled laughter. “And to think, I came here to read you a lecture! How did I end up giving you the notion you should take to the streets? We—Lady Melvine and myself—do not approve of your consorting with the Nabob."
“Is Mr. Seville so rich then?"
“Full of juice. An uncle from the East India Company died and left him a million, literally."
"I have no objection to the fact. Do you disapprove of money per se ?"
“No, I am excessively fond of it, but...”
She looked, waiting.
“Your Mr. Seville—ah—likes the ladies. Of a certain sort."
“The sort who use the title Phyrne?"
“Yes, those certainly, and those who use the title Duchess or Baroness even better. It is generally considered he is looking for a title, to ease his own way into the peerage. He cannot mean to marry you; he is well into negotiations with Baroness McFay, and for entertainment he prefers the muslin company. Why do I feel like a child molester telling you these
“ I am not crying,” she laughed at his boyish despair, and a little, too, at his using her first name without realizing it. “I am just a little surprised that you would be seen in such a public way with a—one of those women."
“Well, everyone does. Half the females there last night were prostitutes. I hold them to be every bit as respectable as a married woman who commits adultery—more so, in fact. They're not hypocrites. They have not promised to love, honour and obey anyone's desires but their own. Why should it add to a woman's virtue or reputation to deceive her husband with a lover? Surely that compounds the trespass. No, no, I won't allow anyone to tell me I must restrict my amours to married ladies."
“You ought to restrict yourself to an appearance at least of respectability."
“Where did you get the bizarre idea my Phyrne is not respectable? Top of the frees. She has none but the most elevated of lovers, and only one at a time. Unlike the married ladies, who require at least two, and preferably three or four. It is better to consort with a Phyrne than with a married lady. There is no question of it in my mind. Tell me you disagree. On what logical grounds can you possibly refute me?"
“I don't. There is much in what you say, but that is not to say that consorting with either one is good. You set up a home for ruined girls on one hand, and ruin them on the other. There is no logic in that."
“Prudence, we're talking about two very different species. Those little girls—young, ignorant without the sense to know what they're getting into ... My Phyrne—the mistresses of gentlemen, are in a different class entirely. They knowingly go into this sort of a life because they don't want to work. They prefer a life of leisure and luxury, they have a beautiful body to buy it with, and they sell it. It is a business transaction."
“Oh, don't try to tell me it is a good thing to keep a mistress."
“I didn't say it was good."
“You said it was better to have a mistress than to take another man's wife. Surely better is a degree of good. Take it a step further, you lover of logic, and you must agree best would be to take no lovers at all. A chaste married lady or a spinster is better than either a Phyrne or an adulteress, surely."
“Not to me she isn't,” he replied unequivocally. “Oh, all right, if you're talking theology or religion or some damned thing. I thought we were talking about real life, and not philosophy. In actual practice, it is less immoral —does that satisfy you—to keep an unmarried mistress than to go poaching on your friends’ private property."
“Yes, I'll accept that partial victory, before you convince me I'm a scoundrel for not selling my own old ramshackle body to help my uncle pay the bills."
“Oh, I don't go quite that far, Prudence,” he replied, throwing his head back in uncontrolled laughter. “And to think, I came here to read you a lecture! How did I end up giving you the notion you should take to the streets? We—Lady Melvine and myself—do not approve of your consorting with the Nabob."
“Is Mr. Seville so rich then?"
“Full of juice. An uncle from the East India Company died and left him a million, literally."
"I have no objection to the fact. Do you disapprove of money per se ?"
“No, I am excessively fond of it, but...”
She looked, waiting.
“Your Mr. Seville—ah—likes the ladies. Of a certain sort."
“The sort who use the title Phyrne?"
“Yes, those certainly, and those who use the title Duchess or Baroness even better. It is generally considered he is looking for a title, to ease his own way into the peerage. He cannot mean to marry you; he is well into negotiations with Baroness McFay, and for entertainment he prefers the muslin company. Why do I feel like a child molester telling you these
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