You cannot help being angry with the man for both reasons.

But he is the writer society delights in, to show what it is composed of.

A man brazen enough to declare that he could hold us in suspense about the adventures of a broomstick, with the aid of a yashmak and an ankle, may know the world; you had better not know him--that is my remark; and do not trust him.
He tells the story of the Old Buccaneer in fear of the public, for it was general property, but of course he finishes with a Nymney touch: 'So the Old Buccaneer is the doubloon she takes in exchange for a handful of silver pieces.' There is no such handful to exchange--not of the kind he sickeningly nudges at you.

I will prove to you it was not Countess Fanny's naughtiness, though she was indeed very blamable.

Women should walk in armour as if they were born to it; for these cold sneerers will never waste their darts on cuirasses.