Aaron's rod

FLORENCE 253
"We were talking of souls, not wicks, Argyle," said Algy.
"Same thing. Upon my soul it all amounts to the same
thing. Where's the soul in a man that hasn't got a bedfellow
eh? answer me that! Can't be done you know.
Might as well ask a virgin chicken to lay you an egg."
"Then there ought to be a good deal of it about," said
Algy.
"Of what? Of soul? There ought to be a good
deal of soul
about? Ah, because there's a good deal of , you mean.
Ah, I wish it were so. I wish it were so. But, believe me,
there's far more damned chastity in the world, than anything
else. Even in this town. Call it if chastity, you like. I see
nothing in it but sterility. It takes a rat to praise long tails.
Impotence set up the praise of chastity believe me or not
but that's the bottom of it. The virtue is made out of the
necessity. Ha-ha-ha! Like them! Like them! Ha-ha I
Saving their souls! Why they'd save the waste matter of their
bodies if they could. Grieves them to part with it. Ha! ha!
ha!"
There was a pause. Argyle was in his cups, which left no
more to be said. Algy, quivering and angry, looked discon-
certingly round the room as if he were quite calm and collected.
The deaf Jewish Rosen was smiling down his nose and saying:
"What was that last? I didn't catch that last," cupping his
ear with his hand in the frantic hope that someone would
answer. No one paid any heed.
"I shall be going," said Algy, looking round. Then to
Aaron he said, "You play the flute, I hear. May we hear you
some time?"
"Yes," said Aaron, non-committal.
"Well, look here come to tea tomorrow. I shall have some
friends, and Del Torre will play the piano. Come to tea tomorrow,
will you?"
"Thank you, I will."
"And perhaps you'll bring your flute along."
"Don't you do any such thing, my boy. Make them
entertain you, for once. They're always squeezing an en-
"
tertainment out of somebody and Argyle desperately