I had cherished that immaculate host, my soul; my memory was still full of images of mud-stained ermine, of trampled lilies; if physical pleasure was not transmuted by the fires of passionate love, it was a defilement. On the other hand, I was an extremist; with me, it had to be ‘all, or nothing’. If I loved a man, it would be for ever, and I would surrender myself to him entirely, body and soul, heart and head, past, present, and future.
