And immediately the queer, careless, terribly attractive smile came over his eyes and brows, though his mouth did not relax.

‘No,’ he said, ‘we aren’t. We’re too full of ourselves.’

‘Surely it isn’t a matter of conceit,’ she cried.

‘That and nothing else.’

She was frankly puzzled.

‘Don’t you think that people are most conceited of all about their sensual powers?’ she asked.

‘That’s why they aren’t sensual — only sensuous — which is another matter. They’re ALWAYS aware of themselves — and they’re so conceited, that rather than release themselves, and live in another world, from another centre, they’d