A woman comes to you with her head full of an idea and finds you do not agree with her.

She will talk, talk, talk until you are blind and sick and heartily wish you were deaf, in order to prove to you that she is right and you are wrong.
She talks until you do not care whether you are right or wrong.

You only care for the blessed relief of silence, and when she has left you, she has done all she could in that space of time to injure her point of view.

She has simply buried anything good that she might have had to say in a cloud of dusty talk.
It is funny to hear such a woman say after a long interview, "Well, at any rate, I gave him a good talking to.

I guess he will go home and think about it." Think about it, madam?
He will go home with an impression of rattle and chatter and push that will make him dread the sight of your face; and still more dread the sound of your voice, lest he be subjected to further interviews.