"Everything's a muddle, and you think it isn't. Nobody knows where
we are--because, as a matter of fact we aren't anywhere. Are women
property--or are they fellow-creatures? Or a sort of proprietary
goddesses? They're so obviously fellow-creatures. You believe in the
goddess?"

"No," I said, "that's not my idea."

"What is your idea?"

"Well"

"H'm," said Ewart, in my pause.

"My idea," I said, "is to meet one person who will belong to me--to whom
I shall belong--body and soul. No half-gods! Wait till she comes. If she
comes at all.... We must come to each other young and pure."

"There's no such thing as a pure person or an impure person.... Mixed to
begin with."

This was so manifestly true that it silenced me altogether.

"And if you belong to her and she to you, Ponderevo--which end's the
head?"

I made no answer except an impatient "oh!"

For a time we smoked in silence....