"At the seventh gate, the warder stripped her; he took off the last veil that covers her body".... "You reversed the order of disrobing with me, didn't you, Easter?" She regarded him as if from her tallest tower of disdain and frigidly answered: "Don't be too sure, Jewel. Not even of the Holy Yowlers romance at Zaneburg." He was infuriated. What did she mean? And how well she remembered names, when she wished to. What next--? VIII There are limitations to the endurance of an unvirtuous man. Ulick, who had foresworn further advances toward Mona, began his aimless cruising about town in pursuit of complaisant women. He found plenty, yet he remained unsatisfied; mercenary love repelled him. The cocottes of the metropolis were mournful substitutes after the light-hearted irresponsible "filles de joie" of Paris. In that City of Light prostitution is elevated to the dignity of Fine Art. He began thinking of Dora, dear little vulgar Dora; vulgar, but also delicious Dora. Her body was like a white satin stove. Doubtless there had been many applications to fill the niche occupied by Paul; doubtless, too, she had put him out of her memory as one of her sheep that had strayed from the fold. The pathos of passion operating, he saw a idealized Dora; Dora the sweet accomplice in the eternal chess-play of sex; a Dora, voluptuous, yet a house-wife, cook and concubine; but always a Dora that interested with her vivacity, her spurts of wit--original, vile, yet mirth-breeding. Should he, or should he not, phone or write her? He decided that a call would settle the weighty question. For him it was weighty. Woman was not only a diversion, but also a necessity. He liked their propinquity. He could never, he felt sure, conceive himself as Dora's husband. In the rôle of an agreeable mistress--! Ah! that was another phase.