[Footnote 1: Or so the observers say who haven't had a life of
pleasure.]
"What do you think about Religion, Viv old girl?" she said one day
in the Eastertide of 1912, when Vivie was spending a delicious
fortnight at Villa Beau-sejour.
"Personally," said Vivie, "I hate all religions, so far as I have
had time to study them. They bind up with undisputed ethics more or
less preposterous theories concerning life and death, the properties
of matter, man, God, the universe, the laws of nature, the food we
should eat, the relations of the sexes, the quality of the weekly
day of rest. Gradually they push indisputable ethics on one side and
are ready to apply torture, death, or social ostracism to the
support of these preposterous theories and explanations of God and
Man. Such theories"--went on Vivie, though her mother's attention
had wandered to some escaped poultry that were scratching
disastrously in seed beds--"Such theories and explanations, mark
you--_do_ listen, mother, since you asked the question..."
"I'm listenin', dearie, but you talk like a book and I don't know
what some of your words mean--What's ethics?"
"Well 'ethics' means er--er--'morality'; it comes from a Greek word
meaning 'character.'..."
_Mrs. Warren_: "You talk like a book--"
_Vivie_: "I do sometimes, when I remember something I've read. But
now I've lost my thread.
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