They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. She had almost chosen to prostitute herself rather than live in that animal state once, but had found a warm cave in Kentucky just as situations had grown truly desperate. She passed down the stairs and into the street. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels.
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