Miss Prism. [Shaking her head.] I do not think that even I could
produce any effect on a character that according to his own
brother's admission is irretrievably weak and vacillating. Indeed I
am not sure that I would desire to reclaim him. I am not in favour
of this modern mania for turning bad people into good people at a
moment's notice. As a man sows so let him reap. You must put away
your diary, Cecily. I really don't see why you should keep a diary
at all.

Cecily. I keep a diary in order to enter the wonderful secrets of
my life. If I didn't write them down, I should probably forget all
about them.

Miss Prism. Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry
about with us.

Cecily. Yes, but it usually chronicles the things that have never
happened, and couldn't possibly have happened. I believe that
Memory is responsible for nearly all the three-volume novels that
Mudie sends us.

Miss Prism. Do not speak slightingly of the three-volume novel,
Cecily. I wrote one myself in earlier days.

Cecily. Did you really, Miss Prism? How wonderfully clever you
are! I hope it did not end happily? I don't like novels that end
happily. They depress me so much.

Miss Prism. The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is