"YOU, who profess to understand the secrets of electricity--you have no better instinctive knowledge of me than that! Do you deem women all alike--all on one common level, fit for nothing but to be the toys or drudges of men?
Can you not realize that there are some among them who despise the inanities of everyday life--who care nothing for the routine of society, and whose hearts are filled with cravings that no mere human love or life can satisfy?
Yes--even weak women are capable of greatness; and if we do sometimes dream of what we cannot accomplish through lack of the physical force necessary for large achievements, that is not our fault but our misfortune.

We did not create ourselves.
We did not ask to be born with the over-sensitiveness, the fatal delicacy, the highly-strung nervousness of the feminine nature.
Monsieur Heliobas, you are a learned and far-seeing man, I have no doubt; but you do not read me aright if you judge me as a mere woman who is perfectly contented with the petty commonplaces of ordinary living.

And as for my creed, what is it to you whether I kneel in the silence of my own room or in the glory of a lighted cathedral to pour out my very soul to ONE whom I know exists, and whom I am satisfied to believe in, as you say, without proofs, save such proofs as I obtain from my own inner consciousness?
I tell you, though, in your opinion it is evident my sex is against me, I would rather die than sink into the miserable nonentity of such lives as are lived by the majority of women." I paused, overcome by my own feelings.

Heliobas smiled.
"So! You are stung!" he said quietly; "stung into action.

That is as it should be.