"And in that event, I would, of course, be released from sojourning in the underworld by the Spring Equinox. Do you not think so, sir?" says Jurgen, very coaxingly, because he remembered that, according to Satan, whatever Coth believed would be the truth in Hell. "I am sure," said Coth--"why, I am sure I do not know anything about such matters." "Yes, but what do you think?" "I do not think about it at all." "Yes, but--" "Jurgen, you have a very uncivil habit of arguing with people--" "Still, sir--" "And I have spoken to you about it before--" "Yet, father--" "And I do not wish to have to speak to you about it again--" "None the less, sir--" "And when I say that I have no opinion--" "But everybody has an opinion, father!" Jurgen shouted this, and felt it was quite like old times. "How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice, sir!" "But I only meant--" "Do not lie to me, Jurgen! and stop interrupting me! For, as I was saying when you began to yell at your father as though you were addressing an unreasonable person, it is my opinion that I know nothing whatever about Equinoxes! and do not care to know anything about Equinoxes, I would have you understand! and that the less said as to such disreputable topics the better, as I tell you to your face!" And Jurgen groaned. "Here is a pretty father! If you had thought so, it would have happened. But you imagine me in a place like this, and have not sufficient fairness, far less paternal affection, to imagine me out of it." "I can only think of your well merited affliction, you quarrelsome scoundrel! and of the host of light women with whom you have sinned! and of the doom which has befallen you in consequence!" "Well, at worst," says Jurgen, "there are no women here. That ought to be a comfort to you." "I think there are women here," snapped his father. "It is reputed that quite a number of women have had consciences. But these conscientious women are probably kept separate from us men, in some other part of Hell, for the reason that if they were admitted into Chorasma they would attempt to tidy the place and make it habitable. I know your mother would have been meddling out of hand." "Oh, sir, and must you still be finding fault with mother?" "Your mother, Jurgen, was in many ways an admirable woman. But," said Coth, "she did not understand me." "Ah, well, that may have been the trouble. Still, all this you say about women being here is mere guess-work." "It is not!" said Coth, "and I want none of your impudence, either. How many times must I tell you that?" Jurgen scratched his ear reflectively. For he still remembered what Grandfather Satan had said, and Coth's irritation seemed promising. "Well, but the women here are all ugly, I wager." "They are not!" said his father, angrily. "Why do you keep contradicting me?"