"They wish to appear agreeable and get credit for cleverness and tendresse, no matter how silly it would be for another person to believe them." Bernard was a good deal amused, and a little nettled.
"Women, then," he said, "have rather a fondness for producing a bad impression--they like to appear disagreeable ?" His companion bent her eyes upon her fan for a moment as she opened and closed it.
"They are capable of resigning themselves to it--for a purpose." Bernard was moved to extreme merriment.
"For what purpose ?" "I don't know that I mean for a purpose," said Miss Vivian; "but for a necessity." "Ah, what an odious necessity!" "Necessities usually are odious.

But women meet them.

Men evade them and shirk them." "I contest your proposition.

Women are themselves necessities; but they are not odious ones!" And Bernard added, in a moment, "One could n't evade them, if they were!" "I object to being called a necessity," said Angela Vivian.

"It diminishes one's merit." "Ah, but it enhances the charm of life!" "For men, doubtless!" "The charm of life is very great," Bernard went on, looking up at the dusky hills and the summer stars, seen through a sort of mist of music and talk, and of powdery light projected from the softly lurid windows of the gaming-rooms.