It is ridiculous to say, as inconsiderate amateurs of the arts do, that
art has nothing to do with morality. What is true is that the artist's
business is not that of the policeman; and that such factitious
consequences and put-up jobs as divorces and executions and the
detective operations that lead up to them are no essential part of
life, though, like poisons and buttered slides and red-hot pokers, they
provide material for plenty of thrilling or amusing stories suited to
people who are incapable of any interest in psychology. But the fine
artists must keep the policeman out of his studies of sex and studies
of crime. It is by clinging nervously to the policeman that most of the
pseudo sex plays convince me that the writers have either never had any
serious personal experience of their ostensible subject, or else have
never conceived it possible that the stage door present the phenomena
of sex as they appear in nature.