"It's your choice. I will leave you an address."
After this, the pudding was eaten in silence.
"Besides, Aaron," said Lilly, drinking his last sip of wine, "what do you care whether you see me again or not? What do you care whether you see anybody again or not? You want to be amused. And now you're irritated because you think I am not going to amuse you any more: and you don't know who is going to amuse you. I admit it's a dilemma. But it's a hedonistic dilemma of the commonest sort."
"I don't know hedonistic. And supposing I am as you say—are you any different?"
"No, I'm not very different. But I always persuade myself there's a bit of difference. Do you know what Josephine Ford confessed to me? She's had her lovers enough. 'There isn't any such thing as love, Lilly,' she said. 'Men are simply afraid to be alone. That is absolutely all there is in it: fear of being alone.'"
"What by that?" said Aaron.
"You agree?"
"Yes, on the whole."
"So do I—on the whole. And then I asked her what about woman. And then she said with a woman it wasn't fear, it was just boredom. A woman is like a violinist: any fiddle, any instrument rather than empty hands and no tune going."
"Yes—what I said before: getting as much amusement out of life as possible," said Aaron.
"You amuse me—and I'll amuse you."
"Yes—just about that."
"All right, Aaron," said Lilly. "I'm not going to amuse you, or try to amuse you any more."
"Going to try somebody else; and Malta."
"Malta, anyhow."
"Oh, and somebody else—in the next five minutes."
"Yes—that also."
"Goodbye and good luck to you."
"Goodbye and good luck to you, Aaron."
With which Lilly went aside to wash the dishes. Aaron sat alone under the zone of light, turning over a score of
