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Updated: May 28, 2025
He was neither a varietist nor a male prude. He was aware of sex. He knew desire. But the flame Betty Gower had kindled in him made him look at women out of different eyes. Desire had been revealed to him not as something casual, but as an imperative.
"If it was anyone else," and he fetched a deep sigh, with tears standing in his eyes, leaving the sentence incomplete. At that moment I was impelled almost to cast myself at his feet, to confess, and beg forgiveness.... "I want to warn you," he went on, "of Hildreth ... once before this has happened ... she is a varietist by nature, as I am essentially a monogamist."
He was what modern nomenclature calls a "contemporaneous varietist." He was, in brief, an offensive type of libertine. Woman, first and foremost, was his game. Every woman attracted him. No woman held him. Any new woman, however plain, immediately eclipsed her predecessor, however beautiful.
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