Alistair murmured an expression of gratitude. “I hope you will look on me as a friend too,” the Duchess of Gloucester went on. “Will you let me speak to you frankly, and will you be frank with me in return?” “Will you pardon me if I am?” asked Alistair. “It is easy for some men to be frank; but when I am frank I find I only shock good people.” “But why should that be so? Are you sure that when you are shocking good people, as you put it, it is your true self that is speaking?” “Madam, I do not know what is my true self; or if I have got one any longer. I used to have one when I was a boy, but twenty years of enforced hypocrisy have pretty well knocked it out of me.” The Princess sighed, and paused for a moment. “Perhaps I can help you to find it. Do you really love the woman you are living with?” “No.” The truth came up from the depth of his consciousness, exploded by surprise. “Then why don’t you leave her?” It was Alistair’s turn to pause. “She has given up everything for me. Sometimes I think I ought to marry her.” “What had she to give up?” This question offered a new light to Alistair, and he took time to consider it. He might have answered superficially that Molly had, in fact, given up the offers of Mendes; and latterly she had given up a great many pleasures that almost ranked as necessities for her. But he saw the point of Princess Adelaide’s question. What Molly had done was to quit the life of a courtesan for that of a concubine, with some prospect of becoming a wife. Now, a swimmer who climbs on to a raft to save him from exhaustion can hardly be said to give up the sea. “Do you consider that she has a greater claim on you than your mother?” the Princess unfortunately added. This time Alistair answered deliberately. “Yes. I do not consider that my mother has any claim on me whatever. In my opinion the obligations of a child towards its parents are trifling beside those of the parent to the child. My mother has been the worst enemy I have had. She has been to me the ordinary type of the Christian persecutor, the race of the Inquisitors and Nonconformists and Churchmen of every church. I have forgiven her because she does not know how wicked she has been. Her crimes are the crimes of her creed. Her brain has been warped and maimed by the training she herself received, as much as the foot of a Chinese girl is warped and maimed by bandages to make it small. I forgive her, and I think I love her, but I should no more think of trying to shape my life according to her prejudices than if she were a cannibal and wanted me to eat human flesh.” The Duchess of Gloucester felt that she had bound herself in honour not to show any disapproval of these outspoken utterances. But she began to see what Lord Alistair meant by saying that it is not equally easy for all men to be frank. She returned to the subject of Molly Finucane.