and that the author, the managers, and the performers, who depend
for their livelihood on their personal reputations and not on
rents, advertisements, or dividends, are grossly inferior to them
in moral sense and public responsibility.

It is true that in Mrs Warren's Profession, Society, and not any
individual, is the villain of the piece; but it does not follow
that the people who take offence at it are all champions of
society. Their credentials cannot be too carefully examined.



HOW HE LIED TO HER HUSBAND

It is eight o'clock in the evening. The curtains are drawn
and the lamps lighted in the drawing room of Her flat in
Cromwell Road. Her lover, a beautiful youth of eighteen, in
evening dress and cape, with a bunch of flowers and an opera hat
in his hands, comes in alone. The door is near the corner; and as
he appears in the doorway, he has the fireplace on the nearest
wall to his right, and the grand piano along the opposite wall to
his left. Near the fireplace a small ornamental table has on it a
hand mirror, a fan, a pair of long white gloves, and a little
white woollen cloud to wrap a woman's head in. On the other side
of the room, near the piano, is a broad, square, softly up-
holstered stool. The room is furnished in the most approved
South Kensington fashion: that is, it is as like a show room as
possible, and is intended to demonstrate the racial position and
spending powers of its owners, and not in the least to make them
comfortable.