Now--think me as brutal as you like--I say a woman is very like a female silkworm,--she comes out of her beautiful silken cocoon of maidenhood with wings which she doesn't know how to use--she merely flutters about waiting to be 'loved'-- and when this dream she calls 'love' comes to her, she doesn't dream any longer--she wakes--to find her life finished!--finished, Manella!--dry as a gourd with all the juice run out!" Manella rose from her seat beside him.

The warm light in her eyes had gone--her face was pale, and as she drew herself up to her stately height she made a picture of noble scorn.
"I am sorry for you!" she said.

"If you think these things your thoughts are quite dreadful! You are a cruel man after all! I am sorry I spoke of the beautiful little lady who came here to see you--you do not love her--you cannot!--I felt sure you did--but I am wrong!--there is no love in you except for yourself and your own will!" She spoke, breathing quickly, and trembling with suppressed emotion.

He smiled,--and, rising, saluted her with a profound bow.
"Thank you, Manella! You give me a true character!--Myself and my own will are certainly the chief factors in my life--and they may work wonders yet!--who knows! And there is no love in me--no!--not what YOU call love!--but--as concerns the 'beautiful little lady,' you may know this much of me--THAT _I_ WANT HER!" He threw out his hands with a gesture that was almost tragic, and such an expression came into his face of savagery and tenderness commingled that Manella retreated from him in vague terror.
"I want her!" he repeated--"And why?
Not to 'love' her,--but to break her wings,--for she, unlike a silkworm moth, knows how to use them! I want her, to make her proud mind bend to MY will and way!--I want her to show her how a man can, shall, and MUST be master of a woman's brain and soul!" A sudden heat of pent-up feeling broke out in this impulsive rush of words;--he checked himself,--and seeing Manella's pale, scared face he went up to her and took her hand.
"You see, Manella ?" he said, in quiet tones--"There is no such thing as 'love,' but there is such a thing as 'wanting.' And--for the most selfish reasons man ever had--I want HER--not you!" The colour rushed back to her cheeks in a warm glow--her great dark eyes were ablaze with indignation.

She drew her hand quickly from his hold.
"And I hope you will never get her!" she said, passionately--"I will pray the Holy Virgin to save her from you! For you are wicked! She is like an angel--and you are a devil!--yes, surely you must be, or you could not say such horrible things! You do not want me, you say?
I know that! I am a fool to have shown you my heart--you have broken it, but you do not care--you could have been master of my brain and soul whenever you pleased---" "Ah yes, dear!" he interrupted, with a smile--"That would be so easy!" The touch of satire in these words was lost on her,--she took them quite literally, and a sudden softness sweetened her anger.
"Yes!--quite easy!" she said--"And you would be pleased! You would do as you wished with me--men like to rule women!" "When it is worth while!" he thought, looking at her with a curious pitifulness as one might look at a struggling animal caught in a net.
Aloud he said-- "Yes, Manella!--men like to rule women.