Lady Cecilia felt herself degraded. She now comprehended that she had been made the instrument of a heartless libertine's pleasures; and that he coolly thrust her aside when literally satiated with her charms.
This was a most debasing conviction—debasing beyond all others, for a patrician lady!
Never did she seem so little in her own estimation: she felt polluted;—she saw that she had sold herself for gold: she remembered how willingly, how easily she surrendered herself on the first occasion of her criminality; and she despised herself, because she felt that Greenwood despised her also!
She had no virtue—but she had pride.
The highest bidder might enjoy her person, so voluptuous was she by nature—so ready also was she to make any sacrifice to obtain the means of gratifying her extravagance.
Love with her was not a refinement—it was a sensuality.
Still she had her pride—her woman's pride; for even the most degraded courtezan has that; and it was her pride that was now so deeply wounded.
She knew not what course to pursue.
Should she endeavour to bring Greenwood back to her arms?
Or should she be revenged?