You have feared only the appearance of evil. To be as evil as
you like so long as you can avoid the appearance of evil; that's the game
you have taught me to play. That's the game we have played together.
That's the game we and our kind insist the artists and writers shall help
us play. That's the only game I know, and, by the rule of our game, so
long as the world sees nothing, I shall do what pleases me.
"You have had your day with me. You have had what you paid for. What right
have you to deny me, now, an hour's forgetfulness? When I think of what I
might have been, but for you, I wonder that I have cared to live, and I
would not--except for the poor sport of torturing you.
"You scoff at Mr. King's portrait of me because he has not painted me as I
am! What would you have said if he _had_ painted me as I am? What would
you say if Conrad Lagrange should write the truth about us and our kind,
for his millions of readers? You sneer at me because I cannot uncover my
shoulders in the conventional dress of my class, and so make a virtue of a
necessity and deceive the world by a pretense of modesty. Go look in your
mirror, you fool! Your right to sneer at me for my poor little pretense is
denied you by every line of your repulsive countenance Now get out.
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